Recaptured Dreams (19 page)

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Authors: Justine Dell

BOOK: Recaptured Dreams
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“My parents died when I was young.” There was not a hint of sadness in the words; Xavier had stated it like a simple fact.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He dished a portion of the casserole onto both of their plates. “I don’t remember them. Bryant, my brother, and I were raised by our grandparents.” Xavier stopped and chuckled.

“What?”

“Well, you already met Bryant at the fashion show. He was the man who dragged me away from you outside the venue.”

“Oh, yes. I remember him. Not near as good-looking as his brother.” Sophia angled her head and winked at him as she broke off a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth.

“Umm, yeah,” he managed to say. “Well, Gram and Pap took good care of us. Sent us off to college, steered us down the right path and all that. Which was good for me because I was quite the troublemaker.” He paused as he watched Sophia take off her sweater and drape it over the back of her chair. Her red V-neck T-shirt stretched at the movement, and he had to remind himself to look at her face and not the accentuated swell between the deep V.

“You, a troublemaker? How so?”

“We were poor, Sophia. And people who live in poverty tend to hang out with other people who live in poverty. Some of those people are good and some aren’t. I always managed to get tangled up with the ones who weren’t. There were plenty of times I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time, watching my idiot friends doing bad things.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry, though. I don’t have a record or anything like that. Pap always set me straight. Good thing, too. If he hadn’t, there’s no telling where I would have ended up. Bryant helped a lot, too, after you left…”

Xavier hinted a smile. Truly, if it hadn’t been for Sophia and his brother’s annoying persistence that made Xavier push all that anger and anxiety into something fruitful, there was no telling where he would have ended up. Xavier was pretty sure it would have been a bad place. A place where he would have never gotten to see Sophia again. A place with bars.

“Like I said,” he continued after clearing his throat, “they set us on the right path. I cherished them for many things but for that the most. They both passed away shortly after I graduated, so it’s just me and Bryant now.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Sophia tucked her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat as well. “I mean to just have Bryant around?”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “It’s all I’ve known for a while.” Xavier dropped his gaze to her lean neck as she brushed her hands along her shoulders, appearing uncomfortable. He studied the curve where her neck met her shoulder and remembered how good it tasted there. “Tell me about your family,” he prompted, making his mind switch back to what was important.

“Not much to tell. You met Mother already, so I doubt you need any explanation there.”

Xavier tried not to cringe at the beastly old woman Sophia called
mother
. There was something seriously not right with her. Why a mother, who was supposed to love her children unconditionally, would purposely jeopardize their happiness was beyond him.

“I’ll give you the short version.” Sophia swirled her wine in her glass. “She thinks she knows what’s best for me, and that’s about it. Father passed away shortly after my nineteenth birthday.” Her bottom lip quivered. “Sudden heart attack.”

Xavier reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m sorry.” He brushed his fingers along her knuckles. Soft, slow strokes. He savored the simple touch, knowing it was all he could allow himself.

She shook her head. “It’s okay. Really. Like you said, it’s all I’ve known for a while. But it still hurts.”

“No other family, then?”

Her demeanor brightened as she squeezed his hand. “I have a brother…” Her face sobered again. “He passed away four years ago, when he was five. Childhood leukemia.”

Damn
. First her dad had passed away and then she’d lost her brother. It was a shame all she had left was her mom. Her saddening past was enough to slice Xavier’s heart open.

“It seems like an eternity since we lost him. But the memories are there, just like it was yesterday. He was such a fun kid. A ball of energy wrapped up in fifty pounds.” She smiled so brilliantly it lit up her eyes.

“You loved him dearly.” He wanted so badly to comfort her now in a way he couldn’t do then.

“Yes, I did.”

“What was his name?”

“Connor,” she said as her face continued to glow.

He blinked and drew his brows together. “What?”

“Connor,” she repeated as she slipped her hand from his. The loss of touch had him reaching forward, trying to reconnect.

“Where did your mom come up with that name?”

“I’m not sure. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Enough of the sad stuff.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled at him. Xavier watched in amazement as she cleared the sadness from her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “What else can you tell me about
the
Xavier Cain?”

An easy laugh rolled out of him. “
The
Xavier Cain?” He pushed back from the table and cleared the plates. “God, you make it sound like I’m something special.”

“You are.”

He stumbled, almost letting the china plate in his hand drop to the floor. Casting her an uneasy smile, he answered, “Not special. Just lucky.”

She rose and stretched, drawing his gaze back to where it shouldn’t have been. “I’ve always had a love of fashion,” she said, her expression bright. “I’ve particularly loved your line since the first time I saw it.”

He grasped the plate harder, wanting to tell her everything. “Like I said after the fashion show, the clothes were made with you in mind.”

She blushed. The color swept across her face, down her neck, and even blossomed in the curve of her shirt. He cleared his throat. “Dessert?”

“I’d love some.”

Xavier made himself busy perfectly cutting a slice of apple pie he’d ordered from the food service that stocked his house. He’d rather have made it himself for her, but he hadn’t wanted to waste the time away from her to go shopping. After carefully placing a small scoop of ice cream alongside the pie, he turned from the counter to hand it to her. When his face came within mere inches of hers, he lurched back and bumped into a chair, holding up the plate like a shield.

“Apple?” She beamed. “That’s my favorite.”

“I know.”

Again she blushed. The pink in her cheeks turned dark red, and she cast her eyes away as she snatched the plate from his hand. Sophia settled herself onto one of the barstools between the kitchen and dining room.

“Are you going to have some?” she asked.

It took Xavier a moment to realize he’d been staring at her, jaw agape for a moment. He snapped himself back to attention, fixing his own plate and taking a spot next to her. And as she started eating, he realized he should have moved down one more seat. Actually, he probably should’ve eaten in his own room.

God
. Was she aware that when she savored her dessert, she closed her eyes, tilted her head to the side, and moaned?

After swallowing a bite, she leaned toward him. “Tell me about how you became a fashion designer.”

He shrugged. It had been her. All her. But instead of him professing his dying love for her and how she’d been his muse, he settled for other facts. “It was the summer after I met you. Pap wanted Bryant and me to go to college, but he couldn’t afford it. So I’d spent that entire previous school year getting my grades up, hoping to get a scholarship into a good school or something.”

She smoothed her hair, smiling at him with tenderness. She looked comfortable with him.

“After you left, I didn’t want to work on the beach anymore.” He frowned, remembering how hard it was to even venture to that side of town. “Pap was upset, but he understood. Bryant, though, gives me hell about it to this day.”

Sophia chuckled. The light, airy sound made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“I found a job at a clothing store in the Hamptons—the stock room. One day the window designer was out sick, and the owner freaked out because Diera Lang was coming personally.”


Diera Lang?
The Canadian designer who broke into fashion when she was only thirteen? You worked at one of her stores?”

Xavier nodded, pride swelling in him. “Like I said, lucky. Anyway, because I had an eye for that sort of thing, I threw something together and
bam
, the next thing you know, Diera is asking why I would put green chamois with brown leather and a red bag.” He grinned as he remembered the life-changing conversation. “Guess she liked what I had to say. The next day I got a phone call from her assistant, asking if I’d like to intern with her in the city. For the rest of the summer I did, and her company ended up giving me a scholarship of sorts to go to school for fashion. I continued to work for her while in school, learning everything I could about the business. And when I graduated, I started my own line. Diera was the one who helped me push it.” He finished off the last bite of his pie and moved the plate away. “She enjoyed playing up the poor-kid-turned-around story…just like her, I guess. People ate it up, anyway. All it took to make a name for myself was Diera’s backing, and the first season I showed on the runway.”

Xavier’s gaze met Sophia’s, and his breath rushed out. Her mouth hung open, and did she have tears in her eyes?

“Are you…okay?” He touched her arm.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She swiped a hand over her eyes. “That story was amazing, Xavier. You must be so proud of yourself.”

“Like I said, luck.”

She shook her head furiously. “No. Talent had a lot to do with it as well. Without that, Diera would’ve never given you a second look.”

“And without the luck, she would’ve never been there in the first place.” And without Sophia, Xavier would’ve never had the drive to become something anyway. It was luck. And Sophia. “More wine?”

She held out her glass, watching him steadily. After refilling his own, he raised it up to her. “A toast,” he said.

She held up her glass, her smile wide. “For what?”

He swallowed hard. “For you. And luck.”

“And Diera.”

He chuckled. “And Diera.”

They both took a sip, settling comfortably onto the high-backed chairs. Sophia dropped one hand to her wine glass, dipped her finger inside, and then slowly ran the moistened tip around the edge of the glass. A soothing hum rang out beneath her touch. Her expression changed from humor to hunger when the glass vibrated under her fingertips.

Gritting his teeth, Xavier picked up his wine and took a long drink, hoping it would take his edge off. Was she oblivious to everything she did to arouse a man? The way she curled a finger around the bottom of her hair. The way she winked when she said something amusing. The way she hung on his every word, as though she was reliving the moments he’d had without her. The way she licked her lips after each bite of pie. The way her eyes glimmered each time they met his.

It was enough to kill any man, having to watch her and do nothing about it.

Xavier rolled his shoulders, a strange tension clamping down on him. He rose, tossing his napkin down on the table.

“I’m going to go get some air,” he said. “I’ll clean this up when I get back.”

And with that, he hauled himself out of the dining room.

 

Sophia sat, her mouth hanging open, wondering what had just happened. Had she said something wrong? She eyed the door, wishing for him to sweep back in and cradle her.

No.
He wouldn’t do that. As much as she wanted him to, she could see the unease in his demeanor. The way he stepped carefully around her, trying not to touch her. And when he did, he was quick to move away. She wished he could see she wanted his contact. He was the one who had flicked on a small slice of her memory, and she was getting more certain every day that she needed him to help her bring out even more.

God, how she wished she knew how she’d felt about him that summer so long ago. Xavier was clearly in love with a memory, and she couldn’t compete with that. She could only show him what she had to offer him
now.
And how did she feel when she was around him now? As an adult? Her thoughts were jumbled, and the way her body reacted to the sight of him was boarding on ridiculous. She grew hot and sweaty. And nervous. Of all things, she was nervous around him.

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