Sarah looked at Jake and smiled. He was such an incredibly handsome young man. A man she still had a hard time believing used to be a sweet yet lovingly defiant little boy. Not that he didn’t have good reason, but luckily, Jake hadn’t written off all family after his mother decided she didn’t want kids. Jake used to tell people that and it broke Sarah’s heart every time.
He wasn’t that same little boy anymore. Considering he’d lived with Sarah and her mother—Jake’s grandmother—for most of his young life, she figured she could take some of the responsibility for that.
“How was Vegas?” he asked as he pulled a soda from the refrigerator, offering her one as he did.
Sarah climbed up on the stool at the breakfast bar as she watched him. “Interesting is the first word that comes to mind.”
“Did you have fun with Dylan?”
“I did. A lot of fun.”
He had the decency to blush. “Sorry. It’s none of my business. I tend to worry.”
“You and me both, kid,” she muttered.
He tilted the can to his lips and studied her. Sarah could tell he had something on his mind, but she had no idea what. It could be anything, knowing Jake.
“Did Dylan tell you that they sold CISS?”
Her nephew sounded slightly peeved by the notion, but she couldn’t really blame him. From what Dylan had explained to her, he took sole responsibility for the downfall of CISS. She figured he’d probably expressed that to others, which meant Jake likely blamed him as well. Sarah couldn’t believe that one man could bring down an entire company. Sure, Dylan probably had to shoulder some of the blame but certainly not all of it.
“Yeah. He told me.”
Jake nodded.
“He also told me that Alex is making sure that you and Nate will have a job with the new company.”
“Yeah. That’s what Alex said.”
“And you’re not happy about that?”
Jake’s gaze dropped to the countertop. “I’m not happy that CISS is having financial problems.”
“These things happen,” Sarah assured him.
“Well, they probably wouldn’t have if Dylan hadn’t become an alcoholic.”
Ah. So that was what this was about. Sarah could understand Jake’s frustration. She could also understand his need to lash out at someone. However, she also got the feeling that Jake was likely projecting some of Nate’s feelings. Her nephew was the happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He was the one who overcame every obstacle and didn’t point fingers when things didn’t go his way.
Usually.
She waited, hoping he would elaborate.
“So, are you serious about him?”
Okay, so that wasn’t the question she’d expected.
Knowing that she couldn’t lie to him, Sarah nodded. “I’m serious, yes.”
“Does he feel the same way?”
Sarah shrugged. “We’re taking this slow, Jake.”
“Slow? You consider a weekend in Vegas slow?”
“It was a business trip for him,” she replied defensively.
“And he took you along with him?”
Sarah studied Jake for a minute, weighing her words carefully. She got the sneaking suspicion that this conversation didn’t have the slightest thing to do with Dylan or her, but Jake was trying to pick a fight.
“What’s going on?” she asked, clasping her fingers together on the bar top. “Talk to me, kid.”
He turned away from her, swigging what was left of his drink before tossing the can into the recycle bin.
“Nothing to talk about. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. That Dylan had treated you right.”
“Of course he treated me right,” she stated firmly. “Why would you think otherwise?”
Jake spun around to face her, and Sarah noticed what looked a hell of a lot like tears in his eyes. She instantly knew this had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him.
Now, if she could only get him to open up.
With Jake, that was usually easier said than done.
DYLAN STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW much fun he’d had during his mini-vacation with Sarah in Vegas. Although he’d never been able to resist the lust that she stirred inside of him, they’d gotten along seamlessly while they’d been there. More than lovers, more than friends.
In fact, he wished he was still with her now. He found himself not wanting to spend time away from her, although he knew he needed to. Some distance would put things into perspective, and he definitely needed that right now. As much as he enjoyed their time together, he knew that Sarah wanted more from him. At times, he wanted to give her that. To express his true feelings for her and to move forward. But something was still holding him back.
Which was why he’d dropped her off at her house and headed home. Rather than go back to his lonely house, though, he had stopped in at Pops’ house to check in.
“It’s about damn time you got back.”
Dylan spun around and searched for the owner of the voice. He knew who it belonged to, but he didn’t know where Nate was. He found his son standing on the stairs, glaring down at Dylan.
“Hey,” he greeted, trying to keep his cool.
It was evident that Nate had an issue with him. Dylan had long ago accepted that he deserved his son’s wrath, but he’d also known that they would eventually have to talk things through. He hadn’t anticipated that chat happening just yet, but he figured now was as good a time as any.
“Let’s talk in the kitchen,” Dylan prompted, not waiting for Nate to respond before he headed that way.
Footsteps sounded behind him and he took a deep breath, bracing himself for a fight.
Nate’s anger had been festering for some time now, and Dylan figured when the kid finally let the emotions out, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Did you have fun?” Nate snapped, dropping into the kitchen chair, still glaring at him.
“I did.”
“At least someone did.”
Dylan paused as he reached for a glass. “Something wrong?”
“That’s a stupid question, Dad. When has anything been right?”
Okay, so maybe this wasn’t really about him like he’d thought. “Want to talk about it?”
“With you?”
Dylan didn’t bother to say that he didn’t see anyone else in the room. He simply studied Nate carefully, then moved around the bar and over to the table.
“Look, Nate,” he began as he took a seat. “I owe you an apology. I haven’t—”
“Why do you think everything’s always about you?” Nate bellowed, jumping to his feet.
Dylan was up in an instant, his hands on Nate’s shoulders. His son was shaking, clearly angry, but at what, Dylan wasn’t quite sure. He’d thought Nate had been angry with him, but now he had his doubts.
“What’s it about?” he asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nate snapped. “It never fucking matters.”
Dylan gently squeezed Nate’s shoulder. “It always matters. When it comes to you, it does, Nate.”
His son’s dark eyes met his, and Dylan held his breath, hoping his son would open up to him.
The next words that came out of his mouth weren’t quite what Dylan expected.
“I’m gay, Dad.”
Well, it was a start at opening up.
“Okay.”
Nate frowned, shrugging Dylan’s hand away. “Okay? That’s all you have to say about it?”
Dylan’s own anger came bubbling up. “What do you want me to say, Nate? Did you have this conversation planned out? Did you write a script that I should know about? You’re gay. Fine. Am I supposed to react badly? What do you want from me?”