Distraction (Club Destiny #8)

“Wow, Dylan.” Jake narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve been out of the game way too long, man. That was in no way subtle.”

No, he didn’t think it was, but fuck. Sarah was going away with a guy. For some strange (and clearly selfish) reason, the idea did not sit well with him.

Not at all.

But his brain was too damn foggy for him to think rationally. Three fucking years, dumb ass. In all that time, he hadn’t made one single attempt to talk to her. Not once. Why should he care where she was going? Or who she was or wasn’t with?

His mind instantly flashed back to that night when he’d gone to her house after he’d been at the cemetery visiting Meghan’s grave. He’d known as soon as he called her that he was making a horrible mistake, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

Dylan forced himself back to the present when he heard Jake clear his throat. He met the other man’s curious gaze.

“Is there somethin’ goin’ on between you and my aunt?” Jake questioned directly.

Dylan shook his head. “No. Why?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“It’s just that she was acting kinda funny … when she saw you last weekend.”

Funny how? He wanted to know but didn’t bother to ask.

“Look,” Jake said, hands on his hips. “I don’t wanna overstep, but…”

“She’s your aunt,” Dylan filled in for him. “I get it.”

“She’s more than that,” Jake countered. “She’s the woman who raised me when my own mother wouldn’t stick around.” His eyes dropped to his hands. “I don’t wanna see her hurt.”

By him? Or by Bill? Dylan couldn’t bring himself to voice those questions, either.

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” Jake said, his eyes not quite meeting Dylan’s. “So, if there’s somethin’ goin’ on…”

“There’s not,” he assured the kid.

“Just don’t hurt her, okay? These past few years, she’s been different. She’s been through enough.”

They both had, Dylan thought. Instead of arguing, he nodded, understanding Jake’s words as the warning they were meant to be. But now, he couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah, couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible for the two of them…

As he fought back that strange emotion that whirled in his chest, threatening to pull him under, Dylan had to wonder whether Sarah was the reason he needed to keep moving forward.

More importantly, if that was the case, was he finally in a place to tell her that she was?

“One more question…” Dylan had to ask, otherwise he would never know.

Jake cocked an eyebrow.

“I know she moved. What’s her new address?”





chapter SIX

“ARE YOU READY?” BILL ASKED, standing in the doorway of Sarah’s house the following morning, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes.

If she wasn’t mistaken, his eyes were a little puffy and he’d started sneezing the instant he stepped foot in her house. The tissue he kept swiping across his nose wasn’t ramping up his attractiveness, either.

“Do you have … allergies?” she inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Just a little,” he said, sniffing once more. “Nothing serious, though. Probably something in the air.”

Right.

Sarah observed him again, praying he wasn’t having a major allergic reaction to something. He seemed to be playing it off, but he didn’t look as though he was having too much fun at the moment. He looked…

Bill wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but he wasn’t ugly, either. He was thin and short for a man—probably no more than five six, if that—with clear blue eyes, a clean-shaven jaw, and perfectly styled medium-brown hair. All in all, he was well-dressed, polite, quite plain, and … sweet.

And therein lay the problem.

Bill was sweet.

And boring.

What the hell had she been thinking when she’d called him up last night and agreed to this? Clearly she’d been inhaling toxic household chemicals or something. It was the only excuse she had as to why it had ever even remotely sounded like a good idea.

Staring back at him, Sarah tried to hide her disappointed expression. “I … uh… Just give me a minute, please?”

He sneezed, then blew his nose.

Yuck.

“Sure.” Sniff. “I’ll be rearranging the minivan.” Sniff. His smile brightened up his entire face. “It’s one of our newest models. It’s a beaut.” Sniff.

Beaut? Who the hell said that?

Better still, who drove a minivan? Last Sarah had checked, she was thirty-eight and single. Not a soccer mom. And Bill… The man was forty-five, never married, no children. What the hell did he need with a minivan?

Oh, God.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just the chemicals. Had she been drinking, too? She didn’t think so, but surely there was a good reason for her spur-of-the-moment lunacy, a.k.a. agreeing to a weekend away with this man. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

Damn.

She couldn’t do this.

Sneaking back to her bedroom, Sarah shut herself in, leaned against the door, and pressed her hands to her chest. She was having a panic attack. She’d been an idiot thinking she could go through with this. Bill was a nice guy, but … well, there was absolutely no chemistry between them. The second she opened the door to see him standing on her porch, she’d remembered that. No matter how hard she had tried to play him up in her mind, it never seemed to work. The mere thought of getting naked with the guy…

Uggh.

And now they were off to… Shit, she didn’t even know where they were going. He’d told her it was a surprise, a chance to see something she’d never seen before. He’d gone on and on about how this was the opportunity of a lifetime, about how they would be immersed in a group of uber-wealthy people who would want to get to know them on a much deeper level. His boss had offered Bill the invitation, since he’d been unable to attend because he already had plans or something like that. Bill even went so far as to say that this could further their careers, the opportunities endless. And though she’d been skeptical, Bill had assured her she’d have a good time.

Because Sarah was spontaneous like that.

Right. The guy clearly didn’t know her all that well. She had a routine so strict she rarely deviated from it. Grocery store on Sunday, water the plants no later than seven o’clock in the morning, spaghetti for dinner every Wednesday. In fact, she even had certain scents of body wash designated for each day of the week. Definitely not spontaneous.

But this was clearly a business thing for him. How bad could it be?

A soft knock sounded on her bedroom door and her heart went into overdrive.

She had to tell Bill this was a mistake.

“Uh … Sarah …” Bill’s timid voice sounded through the door. “There’s a guy here. He said he needs to talk to you.”

A guy?

“I’ll be out in a sec,” she called back, taking a deep breath.

When she didn’t hear his footsteps, Sarah knew Bill had decided to wait for her.

Great.

“You can do this,” she muttered to herself. “You have to do this. It would be rude not to.”

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