Let Me Hold You (3 page)

“Don’t try to understand me, just love me. I’m very happy. I have a ton of money saved from the last two movies I did and I have full medical insurance. When my stuff gets here from LA, I’m going to move into Alexis’s house and gestate until my little boy is born. I’ve got this, Sissie. Don’t worry about me.”

Alana sipped her second giant mug of coffee as she studied her sister’s pretty face, which was completely serene. She was so absorbed in her examination that she almost missed Adrienne’s next words.

“So that’s enough deflection for the morning. Let’s get back to you,” she said, pointing at Alana with a piece of scone. “You can’t make your annual yuletide trip to see me in Cali since I’m right here underfoot. You also can’t hide out in New York with Aunt BeBe, because she’s here, too. I think it’s a sign that you need to do something completely different this year. This is the year that you cleanse all the angst and regret from your soul and begin to live again. I suggest you start with that hot hunk Roland Casey. He really likes you, Sissie. I had a dream about you two last night and it revealed to me that he’s your soul mate,” she confided.

A giant spew of coffee across the table was Alana’s response, followed by coughing and sputtering as she wiped her mouth with her cloth napkin and then began wiping up the spray of coffee.

“Overreacting much?” Adrienne smiled drolly. “You know my dreams always come true, so I suggest you get ready for some happy holidays, Sis.”

Alana’s reply was both profane and short, which only made Adrienne laugh. “If you’re not going to eat that, can I have the rest of it? Your nephew is hungry.”

Shoving her plate towards her greedy sister, Alana finished wiping the table and got up for more coffee.

It would have been easy to ignore Adrienne, but she was right about one thing. Her dreams were often uncannily accurate and the fact that they had both dreamed about Roland could mean something that she wasn’t ready to handle, not for Christmas, New Year’s or any other holiday.

* * *

Across town, Roland awoke in great spirits. He’d also had some stimulating dreams about Alana, but unlike her, he enjoyed every minute.

He stretched lazily in the bed and thought about the previous evening’s activities with a smile on his face. After months of lusting in his heart for Alana Sharp Dumond he’d made real progress with her at the reception. For once she’d been open and receptive to him all night instead of being friendly but evasive.

He’d first laid eyes on her at an early-morning surprise birthday party for Alexis and she’d been side-stepping him ever since. She was always friendly and pleasant when they were in a group, but whenever he asked her out, she had other plans.

He’d been on the verge of crossing her off his to-do list permanently until she’d finally let her guard down. Once he got to hold her the way a man is supposed to hold a woman, she’d melted into his arms and he knew that Alana wasn’t indifferent to him. From her immediate reaction to his touch and especially his kiss, she was as interested in him as he was in her.

Throwing back the covers, he rose from the big bed in the loft apartment he’d inherited from Jared after Jared and Alexis had moved into their spacious new house. Roland had liked the loft and the building that housed it so much that he’d bought the whole thing after he’d moved to Columbia. Real estate was a side venture of his and he never missed an opportunity for a lucrative deal. Since there was obviously going to be steady movement between Chicago and Columbia while he and the VanBurens expanded their restaurant empire, it made sense to own some living space in the city.

After his customary long stretches to limber up, Roland went to the bathroom to shower and shave, blithely ignoring his cell phone as he did so. He knew it was one or another of his sisters calling to bug him about when they would leave for Chicago and he needed a long shower and a large cup of coffee before dealing with them. He was driving the family home that day so they could celebrate the holidays with his grandparents, who hadn’t made the trip down with them.

Turning on the water full blast, he stepped into the shower and cleared everything from his thoughts except Alana as he scrubbed his body under the hot spray.

She had everything he wanted in a woman; she was smart, she had a great personality and a good sense of humor. And as a bonus she was gorgeous. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he liked the way she looked, her beauty was a part of her as much as her intellect and ambition. There was something about Alana that drew him in like the song of a siren and he couldn’t wait to explore that part of her more intimately.

Roland was spoiled by the women in his life, there was no doubting it. He was used to the ladies lining up to get with him, as egotistical as that may have seemed. He’d always been a good-looking guy as well as being a star athlete until a knee injury derailed his college career. But unlike many athletes, Roland didn’t fall into depression and despair because he had always had a back-up plan to insure a steady income.

Besides the restaurant business, which was extremely profitable, Roland had a solid investment portfolio. His stepfather was CEO of an investment firm and he’d taught Roland and his siblings the importance of financial stability and Roland had shown a real gift for funds management. He was a triple-threat as far as women were concerned; handsome, sexy and rich and he never lacked for female companionship.

Lately, though, he’d been looking for something more substantial in his life. It had crept up on him gradually, this feeling that there was something more to life than wining, dining and bedding the beauty of the week. The feeling got more intense every time he was around Alana and he wanted to explore it to its fullest.

He turned off the shower and was about to leave the glassed-in stall when he heard a familiar voice calling to him from the living room.

“Don’t come out here naked, you’ve got company.”

He jumped and then groaned loudly. It was his nosy sister Pamela. He’d made a mistake in giving his parents the keys to his loft since she’d obviously appropriated them.

“What have I told you about coming over when you’re not invited,” he yelled at her. “You’re gonna get mistaken for a prowler and shot in the head if you don’t watch yourself.”

A chorus of giggles was all he heard as he went into the bedroom and dressed quickly in what he considered his driving clothes, a comfortable navy jogging suit that fitted his muscular body perfectly. The outfit looked fashionable and expensive. He carried his cashmere socks and his Italian driving moccasins into the living room and glared at Pam, who was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee.

“Why are you here?” he asked irritably.

“I came over to call shotgun,” she said cheerfully. “Unlike everyone else, I packed last night and I’m ready to roll. You know how impatient I am. I can’t stand being in the middle of a lot of last-minute scampering around. So I left. Where are your cups?”

He grudgingly showed her the cupboard where they were stored and sat on a bar stool to don his footwear. Despite her proclivity for making mischief, Pamela was a very organized person who was always focused on her tasks, which explained why she was ready to go while the rest of the family was still making preparations to leave the hotel.

Pam put coffee in front of him along with a plate containing a warm bagel with cream cheese and lox that she’d picked up on the way to the loft and he had to forgive her intrusion, especially when she offered to pack his bags for him. She traveled extensively in her job and she was the family pro when it came to putting a suitcase together. That didn’t mean she would do it quietly, however.

“So why didn’t you ask Alana to come with us to Chicago?” she asked. “I know you’re gonna miss her while you’re gone.”

“Pamela, is there any chance that you could mind your own business for a change?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment and shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s too out of character for me. I like knowing what’s going on in everyone’s lives. That’s why I’m a reporter, duh.”

Zipping his garment bag closed, she dusted her hands together and announced that she was finished. “We can stop by Alana’s to say good-bye before we go to the hotel,” she said with a dimpled grin. “Then you can lay another hot kiss on her before you disappear. That way she’ll be longing for you to come back and you can pick up where you left off.”

For one wild hot second, Roland thought about doing just that, but reason took over. There was no way in hell he was going to try to cop a few greedy kisses with his notoriously big-mouthed baby sister at his elbow with her handy smartphone. He would have been more than happy to grab Alana and kiss her senseless because she had the most tantalizing lips he’d ever tasted, but he wanted privacy. The concept of privacy was totally foreign to Pam.

“Just try minding your own business for five minutes, won’t you please? It can be my Christmas present,” he said as he picked up his bags and urged her to the door.

“Seriously? You mean I could’ve saved all the money I spent on you? Maybe I can return it,” she said. “No, on second thought, I like getting in your business. I still say you should run by Alana’s before we leave and give her something to remember you by. It’s like bookmarking your favorite site on the internet.”

Roland swung his overnight bag so that it hit her square in the tush. When she squeaked in outrage he mumbled, “I’d like to bookmark you. Only I’d fold you in half and stick you in a dictionary right between
pest
and
pestilence.
Let’s go, woman, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Chapter 3

T
he holidays were finally over and Alana couldn’t have been more relieved. Actually, it wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated, but she was glad to see the last of the decorations disappear until next year. She stayed busy the whole time and all the activity proved to be her salvation. Between the last-minute shopping and the cooking and cleaning, she really didn’t have too many spare moments to dwell on her own pain.

She had to help clean Alexis’s old house from top to bottom in preparation for Adrienne moving in, but that was no big deal since Alexis kept a spotless home. Her family had their big meal and gift exchange on Christmas Eve, because they were all going to cook and serve dinner at Jared’s restaurant on Christmas day. It was a tradition he’d started in Chicago; all of his restaurants were open to anyone who wanted to come in for a festive meal at no charge. It was nice to have something positive to do that would take a lot of energy and focus, so she welcomed the opportunity to help.

There was a lot to keep her mind occupied between Christmas and New Year’s Day, and she was grateful. There were casual gatherings at her mother’s house, as well as an open house at Alexis and Jared’s. She got to spend time with David Stratton, who’d been a really close friend before they’d gone off to college in two different states.

She even had two more houseguests to entertain, Sugar and Sweetie, the two Westies that belonged to Sherri Stratton’s little girl. When Sherri and Lucas went on their honeymoon, his parents took Sydney to Disneyworld and Alana gladly babysat the little dogs.

Alexis had two Welsh corgis of her own, plus she and Jared took care of the elder VanBurens’ corgis while they were on their trip.

It was a nice change for Alana to have the little terriers around the house because she loved dogs and she couldn’t have one while she’d been married due to Sam’s allergies. When she remembered this holiday she’d remember a lot of laughter, barking and eating, as well as a lot of fun.

But she was truly glad to see the last of the old year and more than ready to charge into the new year. The only thing that was bugging her right now was the dreams she kept having, night after night.

Alana didn’t sleep well; she hadn’t for years. She’d toss and turn for hours before drifting into a fitful sleep and when she did drop off, she would have nocturnal visits from Sam. She’d had dreams about him ever since she’d lost him and she usually woke up in tears of frustration, especially when it was one of those dreams from their past where everything was the way it used to be.

But now the dreams were taking off into another dimension altogether. She’d wake up in tears and if she could slip back into slumber she’d be treated to what seemed like hours of intensely erotic dreams, all featuring Roland. The wicked scenes of steamy sex with him were bad enough, but in addition to the sex, there were moments of tender romance so vivid that she would wake up moaning his name.

It was a mess, that’s what it was. During the day she was cool, collected and in control, but her nights were leaving her disoriented, disheveled and totally distraught. Or as close to distraught as she cared to come to in this lifetime. It would have made sense for her to confide in someone, but Alana didn’t even consider it. It was too embarrassing, too raw and too strange for her to verbalize. She didn’t notice that the strain was beginning to show in her face, but others did.

It was a sunny morning and she was sitting at her desk in the office behind the showroom of Custom Classics, going over the week’s schedule. A tap on the door preceded the entrance of Tolerance Taylor, her part-time IT specialist and full-time friend. Tolerance was known as Tollie to everyone and she was always in a great mood, smiling and talkative.

“Okay, which do you prefer, Hershey’s or Dove chocolate?” Tollie asked.

“Dove,” Alana answered, never taking her eyes from the computer screen.

“Star Wars or Star Trek?”

“Star Wars.”

Tollie raised an arched eyebrow. “Even the set of prequels with that horrible Jar-Jar creature?”

“Yep.”

“Ew. There’s no accounting for taste, is there? Early-morning sex or late-night romance?” Tollie probed.

That last one made Alana turn to look at Tollie with a frown. “Where do you get these crazy questions from?”

Tollie smiled and as usual it lit up her pretty face. She was tall, plump and curvy with a stunning complexion and thick black hair that was always perfectly styled. “I told you, I get them from Facebook. Answer the question,” she urged.

Alana wasn’t about to go there, but she was curious. “There’s a Q-and-A page on Facebook? I’ve never seen it.”

Tollie took a seat across from Alana’s desk and waved her iPad at her. “It’s from that group I belong to called Building Relationships Around Reading. An amazing woman named Sharon Blount started it and it’s for women who love to read and share their thoughts about books, life, love, everything. Every day there’s something new and interesting, like these questions. I love them,” she murmured as she continued to scan the screen. “You can really get to know people just by how they answer simple questions.”

Alana turned to face Tollie with a noncommittal expression. “I doubt that. It seems like it would take a lot more than that to develop a real understanding of another person.”

“Maybe. And maybe it’s just as simple as it seems. I’m going to ask the group about it on Saturday when we have an open chat. It’s both educational and cathartic.”

Alana was about to disagree when Tollie looked at her with a sheepish expression. “I came in here to let you know that there’s someone here to see you and then I got caught up. Sorry about that.”

“Customer or salesperson?” Without realizing it, Alana had slipped into Tollie’s mode of questioning.

“Customer, definitely, but he could sell me anything. I’d buy old shoes and day-old sandwiches from him, honey,” Tollie answered as her eyes locked on her screen again.

Curious, Alana went to the showroom to find Roland waiting for her with his massive arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched. She was surprised to see him, especially wearing an expression like that. Clearly he was upset about something and she approached with caution.

“Good morning, Roland. Can I help you with something?”

He glared down at her before answering in a snarky voice she’d never heard from him before. “Yeah, I’m here on Lucas’s recommendation. I came over in person because I know from personal experience that you don’t know how to answer a phone or return a message,” he said. His voice was so deep that it sounded like he was growling at her.

She blushed a little because it was true; she’d been avoiding him with the skill of a spy hiding from the CIA or something. She had ignored his calls, deleted his messages and stayed away from any place she thought he might be. He’d been back in town since before the New Year and it was the first time she’d seen him and it was a week before Valentine’s Day.

She looked down at his shoes because it was too hard to meet his eyes, but that was childish and she was a professional. She cleared her throat before asking him again how she could help him.

“You fix cars, right? Well, mine needs fixing,” he said.

“Is it here?”

Without answering he put one of his large hands around her upper arm and led her through the showroom, taking her out the main entrance and heading to the service bay doors.

A strange sensation flooded her body as the warmth of his hand encircled the skin left bare by her short-sleeved polo shirt. It was like heat lightning ziggety-zagging all over her body, like a pinball pinging off every sensitive nerve ending she possessed. Ping, left nipple, zing, right nipple, ding-ding-ding, Miss Alana! She had to bite her lower lip to keep from giggling at the random thoughts she was having. She and her sisters always referred to their lady parts as Miss; Miss Alana, Miss Alexis and so on.

Another silly thought occurred to her and she almost choked.
Pinball or Xbox?
She’d have to spring that on Tollie one day, that is if she could still think straight after this. She was breathless when they reached the doors but she still gasped at what was waiting for her.

“Oh, Roland, I’m so, so sorry about this,” she said softly.

“This” was Roland’s pride and joy, his much-loved and very carefully maintained 1967 Thunderbird that had belonged to his grandfather. Roland had inherited the car from the older man and he loved it as much as, if not more than, the man who’d purchased it brand-new so many years ago. It had looked showroom-new the last time Alana had seen it; now it was all but destroyed.

The front end of the car was smashed in, along with the driver’s side of the car. The glistening black finish was no more, the windshield and driver’s-side window were crushed into thousands of crystal shards and the front and rear tires splayed out, a clear sign that the frame had been warped and buckled. Her heart was heavy as she surveyed the damage. She could only imagine how Roland was feeling. Without thinking about what she was doing, she put her arms around his waist and gave him an awkward hug.

“Were you driving when this happened? No one told me you were in an accident,” she said as her large eyes locked with his.

His bad mood was already apparent but her soft words seemed to trip his anger trigger again. “Why would anybody tell you when it’s obvious that you have no interest in me? That would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?”

Wow, he was really furious. Alana didn’t react to his harsh words, but he showed a slight regret for his remark as he answered her question. “No, I wasn’t driving when it happened. It was stolen. It was being stored in my dad’s garage in Chicago and somebody decided that they needed it,” he told her in a much calmer voice. “To make a stupid story short, the little jerk was racing it and ended up in a three-way collision. He barely escaped with his life and if he’d been driving anything else he’d have ended up a bloody smear on the road. But all that notwithstanding, I want to know if you can fix it.”

“Of course I can,” she said at once. “I have the best crew in the south and we can get it back to its original condition in no time at all. But how did it get here? It sounds as though the accident was in Chicago.”

Roland was walking around the wreckage, looking lost. He was obviously not listening to a word that Alana was saying. “The insurance company totaled it out. The investigator said it was hopeless. Are you sure you can do something with it?”

He looked so forlorn that Alana went to his side and took his hand, squeezing it to get his attention. “Roland, dear heart, I promise you that this car can and will be restored to all its former beauty. It’ll take a few weeks, but I won’t let you down, truly I won’t.”

She finally penetrated his fog and he gave her a weak smile. “You probably think I’m a big fool for acting like this, but this was my granddad’s ride. I love it almost as much as I loved him. That’s why I had it hauled down here, because I saw what you did to Lucas’s old Range Rover. If you could make that scrap heap look brand-new I figured there might be a chance for Black Beauty.”

“Black Beauty?”

His finely planed cheekbones reddened as he admitted that his car was indeed named as such.

“People who love their cars always name them,” Alana assured him. “My crew will work wonders with your baby, so rid your mind of all concern. I appreciate your trust in me and Custom Classics and we will not let you down. Come inside and let me introduce you to the people who’ll be restoring Beauty. Everything’s going to be fine,” she added in a soothing voice.

Roland had always loved the sound of Alana’s voice and he trusted her skills implicitly. But right now, more than anything else, he loved the feel of her hand in his because she hadn’t let go of him and he saw no reason to change that.

* * *

Roland was totally impressed with Custom Classics, and even more impressed with its owner. The place was immaculately clean, with polished windows and floors and not a speck of dust or clutter anywhere. The retail area of the showroom was neatly organized and labeled for easy shopping; the lounge area for customers was furnished with comfortable chairs, a flat-screen TV, a coffee bar and vending machines. Everything exceeded expectations for an automotive facility; there was nothing that wasn’t up-to-date and state-of-the-art in the building.

Even her staff was top-of-the-line. He met the mechanics, a tall redhead named Rachel, a middle-aged man named Lorenzo and a young woman who looked like a runway model without the makeup and ridiculous heels. Her name was Tasha and she was as business-minded as she was gorgeous.

He was also properly introduced to Tollie, who gave him an open, inquisitive smile that showed curiosity but no flirtation, which was a refreshing change of pace for him.

By the time he’d met all the men and women who worked in the different areas, from body work to interiors to specialty painting, he was sure that if anyone could reassemble his dream car, it was the Custom Classics team of experts. He said as much to Alana as they walked back to her office.

“I’m actually feeling much better now. I’ve been in an incredible funk since it happened. It was just out of the blue, completely unexpected. I know it sounds ridiculous, but when I got the call about Black Beauty it was like hearing that someone had died. It was a tragedy, even though that’s a really extreme word for a car wreck. I thanked God that nobody was killed or seriously injured, but it was still like the worst thing that ever happened to me. I’m embarrassed to be telling you all this stuff, but the truth is the light,” he said quietly.

Alana invited him to sit down on the sofa and she sat next to him, putting her hand over his. Her next words surprised him.

“You really loved your grandfather, didn’t you? And that car was a part of him, a symbol of everything he meant to you. Tell me about him.”

Roland’s eyes lit up as he began regaling Alana with stories about the man who was such a huge part of his life. Talking to her was an incredibly cathartic experience, primarily because she was an active and attentive listener. But it was also because this was what he’d wanted, a chance to really be with her, get to know her. It would have been better if he hadn’t been rambling on like a loser dude in a chick flick, emoting all over the place about a damned car, of all things. It was time to regroup and quick.