Once You're Mine Read online

  "You have to find a way to get along with her, Mom. It's not just the wedding. Scott and Monica will have children, and you'll be sharing those grandchildren with Monica's family, too. Don't put Monica in the position of having to choose between you and her own mother. You're not going to win."

  "I know. I know. Do you want something to drink? I made some fresh lemonade after working in the garden all afternoon. It's so nice to see spring arrive after such a rainy winter. The flowers are coming to life."

  "Lemonade sounds good."

  As they headed down the hall to the kitchen, her mom added, "I was just starting dinner. Do you want to stay and eat with us? Ray went golfing today with Monica's father and uncle, but he should be back soon."

  "So Ray is making nice with the soon-to-be in-laws?"

  "He was trying to make peace. That's what Ray does," she said with a smile. "I've also got Joanie and Mitch Hedden coming over for dinner, as well as Jim Beacham. He's been a little lonely since his wife Elaine died last year."

  She slid onto a stool at the kitchen island as her mother poured her a glass of lemonade. "I haven't seen the Heddens or the Beachams in years." Mitch and Jim had been two of her father's best friends, and the three families had done a lot together when she was a child. "How is Tracy?" she asked, referring to Jim's daughter, who had been a year younger than her.

  "She's married with twin babies. Her husband is a computer tech guy and very successful. They just moved into a big house in Hillsborough."

  "Nice. I was sorry to hear about Elaine's passing. She was a nice woman."

  "She was. You should stay for dinner. I know they'd all love to see you. This is why I've been wanting you to come back for so many years, so we can have impromptu dinners together, and I don't just have to brag about you to my friends, they can actually talk to you themselves. I've missed you, Tori."

  "I've missed you, too."

  Her mother's gaze narrowed. "What happened to your face? Are those cuts?"

  She'd thought she'd covered up her scratches with enough makeup, but apparently not. "I—I got caught up in some thorny roses."

  "In the city? I didn't think there was any green around your apartment," her mother said, giving her a suspicious look.

  "I walk other places beside around my apartment. Anyway, I can't stay for dinner; I'm meeting someone."

  "As in a man? Do you have a date, Tori?"

  "It is a man, but it's not a date." She'd successfully distracted her mother from her cuts, but she'd just opened a new line of questioning.

  "Well, why not? You're not getting any younger."

  "Hey, let's get Scott married, before you start in on me."

  "So who is it? Someone from work? Is he handsome?"

  "Mom, it's not a potential boyfriend. It's just Dylan."

  "Dylan Callaway?" her mother echoed in surprise. "Why are you meeting Dylan? Are you talking about the wedding?"

  She grabbed onto the question like a lifeline. "Yes, I wanted to talk to Dylan about…decorating the car Scott and Monica are going to leave in," she said quickly.

  "I don't know what car that's going to be. They're heading to the airport straight from the ceremony. Ray might just drop them off."

  "Oh, well, I'll talk to Dylan about it."

  "Dylan is single, you know."

  She saw the gleam in her mom's eyes. "Yes, and he considers me an annoying brat."

  "That was when you were kids. He's a good man. Like all those Callaway boys, he lives up to the high example set by his father and uncle and grandfather."

  "Do you still see his mom?"

  "At least a few times a year. Sharon is still busy working as a nurse, but she comes to our neighborhood Bunco parties. She'll be at the wedding on Saturday along with her husband Tim."

  "It will be nice to see her again. Are any of Dylan's siblings coming?"

  "No, Monica's mother limited our guest list, so I could only invite a few of my friends."

  "Well, you can't blame her. Weddings are expensive."

  "And I am happy to contribute. But she won't take my money," she said with irritation. "By the way, in case you were wondering, Dylan is not bringing a date."

  "I wasn't wondering," she said, taking a long draught of lemonade.

  Before her mother could press her any further, she heard the sound of the front door opening and people coming down the hall. She got to her feet as her stepfather Ray, as well as Joanie and Mitch Hedden and Jim Beacham, came into the kitchen.

  "Look who I found outside," Ray said.

  Ray and her mom's friends looked a bit older than when she'd seen them last.

  Ray had an olive complexion and dark hair that showed traces of gray, but he'd always been in great shape, and that hadn't changed.

  Joanie Hedden was a short, plump blonde with sparkling green eyes. Her husband Mitch was a beanpole, over six foot four, with graying hair and a pair of glasses resting on his long nose.

  Jim Beacham was a stocky, former football player, with reddish brown hair and a ruddy complexion.

  "Oh, my," Joanie said, her gaze landing on Tori. "Little Tori—I can't believe it. It's been so long, and you're all grown up now."

  "It's good to see you all," she said, hugging Joanie and then doing the same with Mitch and Jim, who had been second fathers to her.

  "You look just like your dad," Joanie added, turning to her husband. "Doesn't she look like Ben, Mitch?"

  "She does," Mitch agreed with a nod, shadows darkening his eyes.

  "Ben should have been here for this weekend," Jim murmured. "He would have liked seeing his son get married." He shook his head, as if he still couldn't comprehend the tragedy that happened so many years ago.

  As a pall fell over the kitchen, Ray cleared his throat. "Are you joining us for dinner, Tori?" he asked.

  "Unfortunately, I can't."

  "She's meeting Dylan," her mother put in.

  "Dylan Callaway?" Joanie asked, new interest in her eyes. "Are you and Dylan seeing each other?"

  "No, we're just meeting at Brady's to talk about the wedding and some other stuff."

  "What other stuff?" her mother asked curiously.

  "Nothing important. It was nice to see all of you again. We'll catch up more tomorrow at the wedding." She glanced at her mom. "Remember what we talked about earlier?"

  "Yes, I will sit at the head table with Monica's parents," her mom replied with annoyance. "I'll tell Scott tonight."

  "Good. I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Say hi to Dylan for me. I always liked that boy," her mother said. "I've missed seeing him around the past few years."

  "I'll be sure to tell him that."

  * * *

  Her mother might still think of Dylan as a boy, but the guy sitting at the bar having a beer was all man.

  Tori swallowed hard, pausing by the door as she took a moment to catch her breath and really look at him. She'd been so caught up in the fire and her near escape from death yesterday that she hadn't really taken Dylan in.

  But now…

  Her heart beat a little faster as her gaze ran across his body. He'd filled out since his late teens and early twenties with broader shoulders, more defined features and muscles that were evident even in jeans and a button-down shirt. His thick, brown hair had always captivated her imagination. She couldn't count the number of times she'd thought about running her fingers through it. His hair was longer now and drifted over his collar, which was even more appealing.

  His profile was strong and masculine, and the traces of a beard on his face gave him an even edgier, sexier look. When he turned to look at her with sharp, light-blue eyes blazing against his tan face, her stomach did a somersault, and her palms got sweaty.

  She couldn't believe she was reacting so strongly to him. It had been more than a decade since she'd seen him, and it wasn't like they'd ever gone out. He'd been way out of her league when she was thirteen and he was seventeen, but the four-year age difference seemed like nothing now. An
d while she hadn't known how to make sense of her confusing attraction to him back then, she had a pretty good idea of what she'd like to do with him tonight. There were all kinds of deliciously tingly feelings running around inside her body.

  Bad idea, she told herself. One of her worst ideas ever.

  But she couldn't help but curve her lips in response to the smile on his face. Maybe she'd just let herself enjoy the moment.

  Her teenaged self would have killed to be invited to do anything with Dylan. And while she was feeling all kinds of attraction to him, in his mind she'd probably always be Scott's little sister. He'd already scolded her like a big brother for following a stranger into an empty building. She wasn't getting out of the pesky-little-sister-of-his-best-friend zone any time soon.

  Forcing herself to move, she joined him at the bar, sliding onto the stool next to him.

  "I thought you were going to stand me up," he said. "You're late."

  "I was talking to my mother. That always seems to take longer than I think."

  "Everything used to take you longer than you thought," he said dryly. "Back in high school, Scott and I were always waiting for you when we had to give you a ride somewhere."

  She didn't much care for the reminder, and she certainly couldn't tell him that was because she'd spent extra time on her makeup whenever she knew he was going to be around. "That was a long time ago."

  "True. You have grown up."

  "So have you."

  Their gazes clung to each other just a little too long. Dylan suddenly frowned, then straightened and said, "Can I buy you a beer?"

  "I'd rather have a glass of Merlot."

  "Sure."

  As he passed her order onto the bartender, she looked around the restaurant and said, "This place looks better than I remember." Owned by a former firefighter, Brady's had been a popular watering hole for the Callaways. She'd come here a few times for birthday dinners and other celebrations.

  "It should look better. It was rebuilt a couple years ago after a fire."

  She raised an eyebrow. "A fire in a firefighter's bar?"

  "That wasn't a coincidence."

  "What happened?"

  "It's a long story, but one of the owner's sons had a fascination with starting fires. My cousin Emma was caught up in the middle of it."

  "Is Emma also a firefighter?"

  "She was, but now she's an investigator."

  "Does she work with Gary Kruger?"

  "Yes," he said. "Did you speak to Gary?"

  "This afternoon. He came by my office, and asked me a lot of questions, but he didn't feel like answering any of mine in return. I'm hoping you have more information?"

  "I don't have much, but I can tell you that the fire started in an upstairs apartment—the same apartment where the victim was located," he added.

  She thought about that for a second. "Does that mean he started the fire? But why wouldn't he have set it in such a way that he could get out? And he couldn't have been upstairs more than a few minutes before the explosion. How did he set it off that fast? Do you think he set it up beforehand? But then what was he doing wandering around, watching me?"

  Dylan started shaking his head before she got her last few words out. "Damn, you haven't changed a bit, Tori. You can ask more questions without taking a breath than anyone I know."

  She frowned. "It's my job to ask questions now. I'm a journalist. I get paid to get answers."

  "Well, you certainly found the perfect job for yourself."

  "I did. Now, can you answer any of my questions?"

  "Let's see. The fire was definitely set deliberately. They found an accelerant and the remnants of a homemade device at the scene. They'll examine the evidence and determine if the fire signature can be tied to any other fires in the city or any known arsonists."

  "Is there any information on Neil Hawkins?"

  "Not that Kruger was willing to share with me. I barely got the fire information out of him."

  "Why wouldn't he talk to you?"

  "Because it's his job to investigate fires. Mine is just to put them out. He was very quick to remind me of that," Dylan added, not looking too happy about that.

  "So it's a territorial thing."

  "Probably. It's also early in the investigation. There's a lot to do."

  "I did some research on the Internet. I found three Neil Hawkins in the San Francisco Bay Area. Two were the wrong age, and the third guy was Asian. Do you remember the address on the ID?"

  "I'm pretty sure it said San Francisco."

  "That's what I thought, too, but I was a little distracted by the guy's face."

  "Because you thought he looked like your father."

  "Didn't you? You knew my dad."

  "A long time ago. I didn't see a resemblance, but to be honest, your dad's face is a little hazy in my mind. He wasn't around that much when I was at your house."

  She could understand that. The few years before her dad had died he'd been working a lot, and it was during that time that Dylan and Scott had become good friends. "Do you know if the police have found any relatives to Mr. Hawkins? Has anyone been notified of his death?"

  "Kruger told me that the police were working on finding relatives, but no one had been contacted yet." Dylan tilted his head. "Let's get back to you. So you said you followed this man into the building, because you're doing some news story on homeless people. Do you think he knew you were following him?"

  "I don't believe so. I first saw him when I was sitting outside of a coffee house a few blocks away. I looked up and caught him staring at me. When he realized I was looking back at him, he took off down the street. I waited a second and then I followed him. He was already around the corner before I started after him, and he was two blocks ahead of me when I saw him enter the building. I went inside just to check things out."

  "Do you know how dangerous that was?"

  "It was broad daylight."

  "And yet you almost got blown up."

  "Well, obviously, I didn't think that was going to happen."

  "You didn't consider that he wanted you to follow him? Maybe he lured you there."

  She thought about that, but it didn't ring true. "I don't believe that's what happened. And I'm still baffled by how he could have set off an explosion that fast."

  "He could have set it up earlier."

  "I suppose so. Or he surprised the arsonist. Maybe he was squatting in the building. It was a free place to stay until it got torn down, which apparently was going to be soon."

  "That makes sense," Dylan agreed.

  "See, I can make sense once in a while."

  He grinned back at her and that lopsided smile of his made her heart skip a beat. "Apparently so."

  "I have to know what happened in that building, Dylan."

  "For a news story or because the man looked like your father?"

  "For me," she said. "Because I was there. Because I can still feel the blast of that fire, and my hip hurts from where I landed on the sidewalk."

  He frowned at that. "You're lucky you weren't hurt worse."

  "I know that."

  "Look, you may never know what happened, Tori. Do you know how many arson fires are never resolved?"

  "I'm guessing a lot."

  "Because the evidence is usually destroyed in the fire. We're lucky the investigators found anything they can use as a lead."

  "I get it. It's just frustrating."

  "It is," he agreed. "So, let's talk about something else. How is your mom? You said you stopped there on the way over here?"

  "She's good but stressed about the wedding," she replied, as she sipped her wine. "My mom and Monica's mother are apparently very different people, but they have one thing in common—they both like to be in control. They've had a few bumps. The latest is over the reception hall seating, but I think my mother will give in, and everything should go smoothly. Scott is really worried about making sure this is Monica's perfect day. It's pretty sweet, actually."


  "Yeah, he's whipped," Dylan drawled.

  "He's in love. There's a difference."

  "Is there?" he asked with a laugh.

  "Yes. And I've never see him so happy."

  "He is pretty damn happy," Dylan agreed, finishing off his beer.

  His words made her wonder about Dylan's love life. He wasn't married or bringing anyone to the wedding, but she knew little else about him. She'd actually made it a point not to ask Scott about Dylan over the years. She hadn't wanted to hear about him and his girlfriends. She'd wanted to keep him out of her head. But now she was curious. She just didn't know how to bring up such a personal question.

  Dylan apparently didn't have the same problem.

  "You got a boyfriend?" he asked.

  "No, not at the moment."

  "Really? Is that because you ask too many questions?" he teased.

  She made a face at him. "No, it's because I haven't met anyone I wanted to be my boyfriend. And I don't ask that many questions."

  "Are you serious, Tori?"

  "What? I'm as normally curious as the next person. And if I asked a lot of questions of you and Scott, it's because you would never tell me where you were going or what you were doing."

  "Because we didn't want you to ask to come along or know what we were up to."

  "I doubt you were doing anything that interesting," she said.

  "We probably weren't," Dylan admitted. "We were much more wild and crazy in our heads than we were in real life."

  "Except when you were speeding down the Great Highway in some souped-up car you'd just rebuilt. Are you still into the muscle cars?"

  "Muscle cars, classic cars…I love them all. I'm working on a Plymouth 1971 Barracuda right now."

  "Are you going to race it?"

  "Not officially, but I'll definitely take her out on the open road."

  "I remember the one race you and Scott took me to up in Sonoma. I couldn't believe how fast you drove."

  "That was fun," he said with a nod.

  "I really wanted to feel that kind of speed, but, of course, when I said that out loud, you and Scott laughed at me."

  "We were jerks, weren't we?"

  "A lot of the time." She paused. "I know you like working on the old cars, but why?" It was a question she'd always wanted to ask him.