Why had he become a soldier instead of something safer? Yet even as the thought crossed Tyler’s mind, an uneasy sensation followed. He’d defended Nathan’s decision to enlist, saying it had to be his choice.
“Sarah mentioned that you’ve been promoted,” Kurt said to Rosemary. “Assistant manager, no less. Not bad.”
Rosemary sent a smug look in her eldest son’s direction. “That’s right. I love working for your daughter.”
“She’s a good kid, all right.”
A promotion?
Pain pounded in Tyler’s head. This would make it even harder to convince his mother to leave. She might be doing all right at the moment, but her moods had been wildly erratic since being widowed. For a while she’d be like her old self, then something would happen and she’d fall apart. It seemed unlikely that she’d drastically improved in the few weeks he’d been gone.
Perhaps he should try enlisting Sarah Fullerton’s help rather than antagonizing her, though he wasn’t sure what she could do. But at least if she fully understood the situation, she might be more supportive.
Of course, first he’d have to convince her that he wasn’t the chauvinistic jackass she’d accused him of being. And since he’d not only stuck his foot in his mouth but jammed it all the way down his throat, it might take some doing.
* * *
SARAH SLID INTO her bathtub that evening, feeling utterly decadent. She hadn’t enjoyed a long soak since her business had gone crazy, but thanks to Rosemary Prentiss, she might be getting her life back.
Imagine, she’d actually gotten six hours of sleep the night before. Six. She might have gotten seven if her cat hadn’t demanded treats at 2:00 a.m.
She looked over and saw Theo’s whiskered face gazing at her from the basket of clean laundry she’d brought upstairs.
“Thanks, Theo, I really wanted to wash that stuff again.”
He yawned, stretched out his front legs and rested his chin on them, a vision of smug contentment.
Sarah smiled and closed her eyes, reveling in the warm water and silence. She loved her business, but it was no longer quiet there, day or night. The shop was open for customers nine to five thirty, but the kitchen operated twenty-four hours a day.
The phone rang abruptly, and Theo lifted his head with a reproachful meow.
She considered not answering since she’d been getting numerous calls from an “unavailable” number—mostly silent messages on her voice mail—and figured they were telemarketing robocalls. Then she realized it was almost nine, which was a little late.
“Sorry, toots.” She scrambled out of the tub and grabbed the receiver, shrugging into her robe. “Hello?”
Silence.
Irritation filled her. It probably was a robocaller, checking to see when she was home so a “live” telemarketer would know when to reach her. Still, silent calls made her uneasy. Her ex-husband had used them to check on her a dozen times a day, paranoid that she might be cheating.
What a joke. He’d been the one cheating. He’d also used other tricks to frighten and control her. It had taken a long time after the divorce to stop being afraid of every odd occurrence.
Sarah looked at the caller ID log and saw the number was shown as unavailable, just like all the other calls. With an effort, she pushed the thought away and looked at Theo.
“Come to bed,” she told him.
As a male companion, he lacked certain qualities, but he slept next to her every night instead of tomcatting around like her ex. Not that she’d stayed married after learning about Doug’s infidelity.
And Theo’s feline smugness was a whole lot more appealing than Tyler Prentiss’s arrogance.
Sarah got into her nightshirt and lay down, thinking about Rosemary’s eldest son. He might be sexy and gorgeous, but she’d learned all too well what a handsome face could hide. She hadn’t left her marriage hating men; she knew her ex was a selfish, narcissistic creep who didn’t represent men in general. But when she was ready for another relationship, it wouldn’t be with an uptight guy like Tyler Prentiss. When the time was right, she wanted to be with someone who was easygoing and open, with no hidden dark side.
After a long time, she finally drifted into sleep, only to be jerked awake when the phone rang again.
Heart pounding, Sarah glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. She then checked the display and saw the number was unavailable. It couldn’t be anybody from her family, so they couldn’t be phoning with an emergency.
Her finger hovered over the talk button. She really didn’t want to know if silence would greet her if she answered.
After the last ring, she pushed the phone under a pillow.
With an anxious cry, Theo cuddled up to her again, his velvety black fur making him virtually invisible in the darkness. He put his paws around her neck and licked her cheek.
“Hey, buddy,” she murmured, grateful for his comforting warmth. It seemed to take forever to calm down, no matter how firmly she told herself to not overreact.
But it was hard, and the minutes ticked by.
Finally she got up to dress and head for the shop. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well bake.
TYLER WOKE TO the chirp of birds outside his window. His family’s suite was in a sprawling Victorian farmhouse surrounded by gardens, a far cry from the modern monstrosity his father had built in DC.
Okay, that wasn’t fair.
The architect had probably hoped to create something different, but Richard Prentiss would have demanded a house designed for society entertaining, rather than comfortable living. Something that fit their affluent Foxhall Crescent neighborhood.
Tyler tucked his arm under his neck and wished the birds would go somewhere else. Ordinarily he adapted well to time changes, but sleep was difficult these days between concern for Nathan and his mother.
And then there was the other thing...
Pain shot through his head, though he didn’t know if it was from the injuries he’d gotten two weeks earlier or from memories that were too fresh and unresolved to let go.
He resolutely turned his thoughts back to his family. In DC, his mother had a social circle and familiar surroundings. For Nathan, there were therapists and doctors experienced at treating military-related injuries and PTSD. Even if Nathan didn’t return to rehab, home seemed better than a tiny tourist town on the opposite side of the country.
But when they’d talked the previous evening, Nathan had refused to leave Glimmer Creek. Maybe it was the lack of experienced doctors that he liked, because he wouldn’t have to answer uncomfortable questions.
But
