What the Heart Wants (30 page)

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, still in awe of the great weeping willow. “How did you know I would like it?”

He didn’t answer.

She lowered her head until her eyes fell on him. When she connected with those dark eyes, her heart sighed. Why was it every time she looked at him, she wanted to breathe him in? It was more than that. Gazing at him, near this tree, stuck a familiar chord in her heart.

“I’m psychic, like my mom, I guess.” Dylan shrugged, though a sexy lip curve had her forgetting about the dreams.

He stepped closer to the tree, grabbing a branch in his hand and twirling it between his fingers. “Why do you like these trees so much?”

“I’ve always loved them. Even as a kid. My mom said my sisters and I used to climb up on the hood of the car with a fistful of branches. We’d take a running leap and just swing.”

She thought for sure she’d get a laugh from him on that. No such luck. His smile weakened. “You have a lot of childhood memories wrapped up in these trees?”

Yeah, and dreams with a stranger. A mystery man that reminded her of him. He’d just love to hear about that.

“It’s more than just childhood memories.” She parted the branches and walked underneath. There was no need to turn around to see if he had followed. She knew he was standing there, barely a step behind her.

The coolness of the bark teased her palm. “There is something so special about a willow. They’re strong and beautiful, yet mysterious…they remind me of you.”

“What do you mean?”

She turned from the tree. “You have a mysterious allure to you, not to mention the fact that you’re sexy as hell,” she paused when she noticed his cheeks flush. “You could have anything you want in life, but you hold back a part of yourself. Just like when we came out here to the tree. Something about you changed. I felt it.”

Judging by the way he cocked his head to the side, he wasn’t expecting such a comment. “What do you mean you
felt
it?”

The bright, California sun sprinkled warmth between the branches. Heaven couldn’t speak for what seemed like an eternity. Neither could Dylan. But a long, intense gaze said more than words ever could have.

“I know that sounds strange,” she laughed. “But I did feel a shift in your mood. I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said—”

“No! It’s okay,” he assured her, reaching his hand up to brush a curl behind her ear. “That’s one thing I like about you. You notice the little things.” His eyes roamed her face. “This tree reminds me of how my life constantly hangs in the balance of what I have to do and what I want. You know, money can buy a lot of stuff, but it can’t buy the important things.”

“And what are the important things?”

She didn’t think he was going to answer, not until he cleared his throat and swallowed hard. “Matters of the heart, like real friendship. Money can’t buy that. It can’t buy that deep, meaningful connection you develop with someone special…it can’t buy love.”

“Are those things important to you?” she continued, taking the final step that removed the space between them.

The heat of his breath set her skin ablaze when he leaned in closer and whispered words she would never forget. “Not as important as you.”

* * *

Dylan felt Heaven’s soul pull his. It sent little sparks through his body. Kind of like plugging his guitar into an amp and getting electrical feedback. Only better. So much better.

But more importantly, she’d sensed something about
him
. Maybe his mom was right. That when he’d saved her life, his abilities passed over to her. But had she dreamed of him, like he had her?

He was hopeful when he first brought her here. Especially when she had started talking about how much she loved the tree. But it was for the wrong reasons. Childhood memories were not the ones he wanted her to remember, unless they involved him.

Then again, she did say the tree reminded her of him. That she
felt
his mood change. Maybe she could feel him.

His eyes trailed down to her lips, remembering all the times they’d pressed to his before reality ripped her away. He cupped her cheek, willing her to remember something, anything from their time together.

Damn… He needed to tell her the truth. But how could he concentrate on anything but the heat building between them?

“This has been such an amazing day. Thank you.” She closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of his hand as she let out a sigh. “I wish every day could be like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, his face growing closer to hers.

“Like this,” she whispered, pushing up on her toes as her lips brushed his. “I like it when it’s just the two of us.”

Dylan felt his resolve crumbling when she looked at him. There was such a longing in her eyes. His hands ached to explore her body. When Heaven brushed her lips across his, again, he lost control and pulled her against him.

Skin…that’s all he felt. Around his neck, under his palms, against his lips. Her soul embraced his, swirling around it, urging it to join hers. He felt her need for him, felt the power of their bond strengthening each time she breathed against his cheek.

The scent of honeysuckle in the air, the way their bodies molded together, the passionate kisses; it was all so familiar…too familiar…because it had happened before.

Dylan broke their kiss and leaned his forehead to hers. “Heaven…” He struggled to form the words.

“Yes,” she said, rubbing her nose against his.

“There’s something I need to tell you.

“I know,” she whispered, pulling him into another kiss.

* * *

Heaven lost all reasoning as Dylan’s lips set her body afire. The heat of his palm pressing at the small of her back radiated through her dress. His hand continued down until it drew the bottom portion of her dress upward. His calloused fingers raked over her sensitive skin until they reached her inner thigh, passing the silky fabric just above it.

She whimpered against his lips as he applied pressure to the tender flesh throbbing against his thumb. He alternated between soft and firm strokes, fueling the tiny flames coursing through every nerve. Her hips circled inward, as though she could satisfy the tingle increasing with each caress of his thumb.

His mouth left hers and moved to her neck. Her fingers raked through his hair, fisting it in her hand when he cupped her breast. Her nipple hardened at his touch. It sent another wave of erratic jolts, burning through her. She knew nothing of the urge rising inside her, but she didn’t want it to stop. A moan slipped past her lips, clouding her mind with visions of him, hovering over her.

It was a good thing he reacted to the sweet sound and held her tighter. She thought for sure she would have hit the ground if he hadn’t. He definitely made her weak in the knees.

The comparison struck a nerve.

Weak in the knees…wait a second…

Was she really in awe of the tree in Dylan’s yard, or had she been under it before, in a dream with him? The same dream she’d been experiencing for months, the one she had dreamed the morning of Chelsea’s wedding rehearsal. Is that why the willow tree in front of the church had triggered a memory that morning? The guy in those dreams, he had made her feel…weak in the knees.

She pushed him away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes showing the pain of her rejection.

Great. She’d offended him. That wasn’t her intention. She reached out to him, brushing his cheek with her fingers. “Nothing is wrong; I just…have you ever experienced Déjà vu or something like it?”

“What do you mean something like it?”

“I don’t know; it’s hard to explain. Déjà vu is feeling like you’ve done the same thing before…but, what if…” She struggled to find the right words, until she gazed into his eyes.

“What is it, Heaven?”

“What if you’ve dreamed about it before?”

* * *

All the air in Dylan’s lungs rushed passed his lips. He grew dizzy from a fog of want and need. Did she just say…

“Like dreaming of something before it happens?”

She didn’t respond. A faint voice had called to him from inside the house. He followed her gaze to the back door, hoping like hell that they didn’t have an audience. Luckily, no one was standing there. But someone was in the house.

“Great,” he said, letting out a sigh. “My dad is here. I guess you get to meet him.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it,” she teased.

“I’m not. He is the last person I want to see.” He didn’t give her the chance to ask why. Lacing his fingers through hers, he turned toward the back door.

After the short trek across the backyard, they stepped inside the kitchen. Dylan led Heaven down the hallway. He barely had the front door in his sight when he noticed William, his father’s chauffeur.

“Good afternoon, William,” Dylan said, greeting the older man. The chauffeur responded with a nod in his direction.

“There you are,” his dad grumbled as he came out of the dining room. “I was beginning to wonder—oh, hello.”

Dylan’s eyes moved in the same direction as his father’s—to Heaven. Now his dad wanted to act civilized. Act being the keyword. What an ass. How did they share the same bloodline?

He’d never had a physical confrontation with his father, but if he didn’t stop staring at Heaven like she was some prized trophy on display, there would be a first.

* * *

Heaven stared into the face of Dylan’s father. She blinked, trying to figure out why he was staring at her so intently. Did she have something on her face? She swiped her hand across her cheek, just in case. But it didn’t help.

It was hard to believe this was Dylan’s father. There was no resemblance, save the deep-brown eyes. His father was a few inches shorter and had a neatly trimmed goatee of auburn and gray. Just like his short hair.

She said a silent thank you to Delia for passing on her genes to Dylan.

“Dylan, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” his father asked, but his eyes never left hers.

“Heaven, this is my dad, Nathaniel McBride. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Heaven Lewis.”

“Girlfriend?” Nathaniel repeated the word as his eyes darted to Dylan. “I didn’t know you were—wait a minute. Is she the same girl you were with on the cover of
Truth Newspaper
?”

Had she suddenly disappeared or did he not have the nerve to ask her?

Dylan shifted his stance, leaning in closer to Heaven. “Yes, she is the same girl.” His eyes softened as he gazed down at her.

“So, the reporter was right on the money?” Nathaniel laughed, though it didn’t sound like one intended for humor.

“We weren’t a couple when Sid Baker snapped that picture, but we are now.”

Nathaniel’s brows folded, as though Dylan had said something that didn’t register. Though his eyes remained on his son, the words he spoke were aimed at her.

“So, where are you from, Heaven?”

The foyer seemed to get smaller the harder Nathaniel stared at her. She swallowed hard. “I’m from Ohio, but I’m spending the summer here, maybe even a little longer,” she answered. She couldn’t resist smiling when Dylan’s thumb stroked the inside of her palm.

“You’re quite a ways from home. What brings you out to Los Angeles?”

“She’s best friends with Kyle’s wife. She came out for the wedding.”

Was Dylan trying to protect her from his dad’s questions? For each answer he gave, Nathaniel spouted another.

“I see.” Nathaniel walked toward the staircase. His hands folded at his back as he took slow steps. “So you two met at the wedding?”

“Yes,” Dylan practically hissed the words, “we did.”

“And what is it you do in Ohio? Are you employed?”

She waited for him to turn around, but he didn’t. “I just finished my junior year of college,” she told him. Did he think she was after Dylan’s money? Maybe that’s why he was acting like Dylan’s guard dog.

Not that Dylan wanted or needed his father’s protection. Each one of his dad’s questions made the atmosphere more hostile. The testosterone lingering in the air was thicker than the L.A. smog. If these two made it through this conversation without killing each other, it would be a miracle.

Nathaniel turned his judgmental eyes back onto her. “What’s your major?”

Heaven sensed the unspoken challenge his questions brought up. Was he purposely goading his son or her?

“Um…I’m majoring in English.” Her eyes left his impervious stare to focus on Dylan. While he held her hand in his, she wrapped her other one around his arm. “Hey,” she whispered into his shoulder. The words vibrated against her lips. “I’m fine. Calm down…if you keep squeezing my hand like that, I’ll never learn to play guitar.”

Finally. A smile. Not as warm as she’d hoped, but there was definitely humor in his eyes.

“You have a smart one on your hands, Son,” Nathaniel’s gruff voice broke the magic. Heaven turned in time to see him giving her a look-over. Ick. How creepy. “Is there a certain field you’re leaning toward?”

These were the questions she’d expected Delia to ask. But Dylan’s mother had gone easy on her. Nathaniel…not so much.

“I’m not sure what I want to do, yet. I was hoping to study abroad, but I didn’t get accepted into the program I applied for this year.”

Nathaniel brought out his phone and began tapping the screen. “Which program would that be?”

Like he really wanted to know.

“It’s a liberal arts program called All Things Art. It would have been a chance of a lifetime.” It’s all she had thought about since starting college, all she’d prayed about. But sometimes, God left prayers unanswered for a reason.

“Then it is unfortunate that you were not accepted, my dear. You seem like a bright young woman.” Was Nathaniel actually smiling? Funny. She actually liked him frowning. It seemed more genuine.

“To be honest, I’m glad I wasn’t accepted.” She reached up to rub Dylan’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have met your son, if I had.”