Sierra’s heart jumped into her throat when the doorbell rang.

“Dalton’s here,” Bennie announced, unnecessarily.

She swallowed, hurriedly placing the last of the silverware on the table. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans as she glanced around the kitchen. She’d cleaned it the best she could, and while it looked a thousand times better than it had this afternoon, it was still cluttered and shabby. At least the food was ready. Well, everything was ready except for the bread, which was baking in the oven—the fragrant smell of garlic wafting through the room.

Bennie cocked her head, amusement lighting her eyes. “Maybe you should get the door before you melt into a puddle of nerves.”

Her head shot up. “I’m not nervous,” she flung back, trying to slow the pounding of her traitorous heart. She lifted her chin and strode out of the kitchen, down the hall, and to the foyer. Just as she reached the door, the bell sounded again. For a split second, she stood frozen. She had the irrational thought that the minute she opened that door, her life would never be the same again. She laughed at the absurdity. It was just dinner. Sierra would muddle through it the best way she knew how, and that would be that.

She sucked in a deep breath and pasted on a regal expression as she flung open the door. Warmth darted over her as she stared into those distinguished silver-blue eyes, the color of rain. She’d been too overwhelmed with the accident to notice earlier, but the angles of his face were sharper than she remembered. There were faint creases around his eyes, a touch of wisdom over his brows that hadn’t been there before. He was still as devastatingly handsome as always, oozing that good ol’ boy charisma that he wore like a second coat of skin.

“You cut your hair,” she blurted. Oops. She’d not meant to say that out loud.

He ran a hand over his hair, which was still longer in the back, but more tapered around the sides than it had been earlier today. “Thanks for noticing.”

Her first impulse was to defend herself, say that just because she noticed he got a haircut didn’t mean jack squat. But she clamped her mouth shut instead, knowing no matter what she said, Dalton would twist it to use as a prodding stick to tease her relentlessly. Well, the old Dalton would have. But the man in front of her was different—harder and more unyielding.

She glanced at his lips, remembering those reckless kisses that had stolen her heart, claiming her for all eternity. Heat crept up her neck. Blast these infernal thoughts! Claiming her for all eternity? Really? She was a blooming idiot! She noticed the hairline scar running along his jaw. Had it happened during his service in the Marines? For seven long years, she and Dalton had lived separate lives. They weren’t the same people as before. She flinched realizing that he’d been watching her study him. Her eyes met his defiantly. “What?” she demanded.

A slow smile spread over his lips, showcasing his dimples. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here tonight, Sie.”

How well she remembered the husky edge to his voice—the sound of her name on his tongue. His words held a hint of innuendo, like she’d spent the afternoon waiting on pins and needles for him to arrive. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stepped back allowing him to enter. He stepped in, closing the door behind him. They stood for a second looking at each other, a lifetime of strangled memories crowding around them. It was on this very spot that the two of them had hugged and kissed that last day before Dalton left to join the Marines. They’d clung to each other for the very last time, tears staining their faces. Dalton assured Sierra that boot camp on Parris Island was a mere twenty miles away and they’d see each other on Family Day, the day before his graduation. “It’s only thirteen weeks,” Dalton kept repeating. “Once basic training is over, we’ll get married.”

Sierra had smiled through her tears agreeing to everything, knowing it was a lie. She was already preparing to leave for New York.

“Dinner smells good,” Dalton said interrupting her thoughts. She realized with a start that he was studying her intently. She got the impression he somehow knew what she was thinking. A smile fixed over her face. “Thanks. Come on in.” Before they walked out of the foyer, she thought of something else. “Hey, would you mind keeping the accident between us?” she asked quietly.

Amusement simmered in his eyes. “You’re in Sugar Pines, darling. I’m sure the whole town’s heard about it by now.”

She lifted her chin. “Well, Bennie hasn’t. And I’d like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”

He shrugged. “As you wish.”

She flinched. Before Dalton had mustered courage to outright express his love, he’d quoted “As you wish,” from The Princess Bride. She gave him a questioning look, but his expression remained bland. She rolled her eyes. Whatever.

He motioned. “After you.”

Her skin tingled with awareness of him directly behind her as she led him to the kitchen. Like always, he consumed everything around them so that she was only aware of him. She tightened her fists, willing herself to get a grip. Sheesh! It wasn’t like she’d been pining away for Dalton all these years. This visceral attraction thing was getting on her nerves. She was happy with her life, happy with Parker. Maybe this was coming on because she was worried about the future of the mansion and upset because Parker hadn’t proposed. Yes, that had to be it.

When Dalton spotted Bennie sitting at the table, he went to her side and leaned over, giving her a tight hug. “Hey, Ben,” he said affectionately. “Smells almost as amazing as you look.”

Bennie swatted his shoulder. “Oh, stop. None of that,” she protested, but her eyes danced with appreciation as if devouring every word. She motioned. “Have a seat. We’re just waiting on the bread.”

Dalton looked at the table. “Where would you like for me to sit?”

“Wherever you want,” Bennie said, waving an arm at the two remaining place settings.

Dalton pulled out the closest chair and sat down. Concern sounded in his voice as he looked at Bennie’s knee. “I didn’t realize that you’d gotten hurt. What happened?”

She chuckled lightly. “Oh, I did something stupid.”

Sierra rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. When had Bennie not done something stupid? “Yeah, she decided to climb up a ladder and fiddle with the stage lights,” she retorted.

Dalton laughed in surprise. “Bennie, you know better than that. You should’ve let me know, and I would’ve helped you.”

Bennie flashed an appreciative smile that bordered on adoration as she touched Dalton’s arm. “You’re always so good to me, but I didn’t want to pull you away from your business. I know how busy you are.”

“I have been covered up,” Dalton admitted. “But never too busy to help a friend.”

Was it her imagination or was there a hint of accusation in his phrase? A reminder that she’d deserted everyone. Then again, maybe she was being overly sensitive. Sierra didn’t realize that Dalton and Bennie were so close. Bennie had always been fond of Dalton, but they never really had a relationship outside of Sierra. Watching them interact made her feel left out, which was stupid. Why did she care what went on between Dalton and Bennie … or anyone else in Sugar Pines, for that matter? Once they earned enough money to cover Bennie’s back payments, she’d be out of here. Of course, she still had to make sure Bennie didn’t get herself in a bind again. But surely she’d learned her lesson this time. Oh, how Sierra hoped that was the case.

Bennie looked at Sierra, a trace of amusement in her eyes. “Would you mind getting the bread out of the oven?”

“Sure.” For a second, Sierra wondered why Bennie was looking at her that way. Then she realized that she’d just been standing there like a moron, staring at Dalton and Bennie. She hopped into action, glad to do something useful—something on which to channel these crazy thoughts and feelings. She slid the oven mitt over her hand and opened the door, removing the bread.

“Just place it in the center of the table,” Bennie instructed, pointing at the trivet.

I know how to take care of bread, was the first thought that ran through Sierra’s mind as she placed the bread on the table. But she only nodded. Then she removed the mitt and sat down.

Bennie held out her hands. “Let’s say Grace.”

Sierra’s eyes widened momentarily. She’d not thought about it, but Bennie liked everyone to hold hands around the table during the prayer, meaning she’d be forced to hold Dalton’s hand. She tried to recover quickly, but wasn’t fast enough. Dalton’s eyes narrowed a fraction as a corner of his lip tilted up in hard amusement. Her face flamed as she clutched Bennie’s hand and thrust out her other hand. For a split second, Dalton just looked at her hand like he might refuse to take it. But then he touched her, sending an electric charge racing through her.

Bennie said the prayer, but Sierra barely heard a word. All she could think about was the feel of Dalton’s skin on hers. His touch was light, like he was trying to maintain as little body contact with her as possible. For some reason this irritated her. She tightened her hold on his hand making such a strong connection that blood whooshed through her temples like a raging inferno. When the prayer was over, she opened her eyes to find Dalton eyeing her in amusement. She gave him a questioning look, then realized she was still holding his hand. In a flash, she snatched her hand away. Dalton let out a low chuckle. Bennie cleared her throat, like she too found the situation funny.

“I’ll get the food,” Sierra mumbled, standing to retrieve the platter of foil-covered steaks.

Dalton moved to stand. “I can help too.”

“No,” Sierra barked. When she saw Dalton and Bennie’s surprised expressions, she forced a smile, her voice going buttery sweet. “I’ll take care of it. After all, you’re our guest.” She placed the platter on the table, then reached for the potatoes and salad.

Bennie grunted, reaching for a slice of bread. “Guest? Dalton’s more like family. How many times have the three of us sat around this very table?”

The last thing Sierra wanted was a trip down memory lane. To Dalton’s credit, he only smiled as he turned to Bennie, changing the subject. “Tell me, what still needs to be done for the set design?”

Bennie placed a large steak on her plate and reached for a potato as she sighed. “Unfortunately, a lot. Poor Hank Trenton tried his best, but he’s not nearly as adroit as you. And then he had to stop when Mandy got put on bed rest with her pregnancy.” Bennie rambled on a mile a minute, listing everything that still needed to be done.

Sierra filled her plate with food, relieved to have attention diverted away from her. She made a point of avoiding eye contact with Dalton. Still, his presence was as all consuming as the sun. It took all the effort she could summon to remain distant and uninterested. From the corner of her eye, she managed to steal a few surreptitious glances. Dalton had changed his clothes from earlier to darker, dressier jeans and a short-sleeve, light blue shirt that picked up the color of his eyes. The fabric of his shirt stretched a little over his pecs and his tanned biceps rolled underneath his sleeves with every movement. Had Sierra only imagined the tattoo earlier? It was impossible to tell for sure because his sleeves were longer.

Her mind worked to fill in the gaps of the last seven years they’d been apart. Dalton served four years in the Marines before moving to Seattle, Washington for a couple years. When Bennie told Sierra that Dalton was getting serious with a girl there, the news hit Sierra like a punch in the gut. Then she stepped back and examined the situation, finally realizing it was good that Dalton was moving on. After all, she’d moved on. Why shouldn’t he? Dalton deserved to be happy. Even though he wasn’t right for Sierra that didn’t mean he couldn’t find someone to build a life with, as she had with Parker.

Something must’ve gone wrong with the other girl. Otherwise, Dalton wouldn’t have come back here. She was still wondering how he managed to purchase the Drexel Mansion. Looking at Dalton now, it was hard to believe he was the same angry, lost soul he’d been before. Dalton’s intense hatred for his father fueled everything he did.

Sierra always figured the primary reason Dalton joined the military was so he could channel his anger into something constructive before it destroyed him. She always pictured Dalton drinking his life away, becoming an alcoholic like his father … and Sierra’s mother. Did Dalton drink anymore? There was a time when he and Sierra used alcohol as an escape mechanism from their problems. She’d been as much a party to that lifestyle as Dalton. But when Sierra moved to New York, she vowed not to touch another drop of liquor, and she hadn’t.

There was a lapse in the conversation. Sierra realized with a jolt that they were both looking at her, waiting for her to speak. She put down her fork and tilted her head. “I’m sorry?”

“Bennie just told me that you and I are going to be working together on the set design.” Dalton studied her, a quizzical look on his face, as he waited for her to explain.

“Yes,” was all she said, heat creeping up her neck. Bennie looked relieved that she’d left it at that. Sierra could tell Dalton had a thousand questions, but Sierra wasn’t about to air their dirty laundry in front of him.

“So you’ll be staying in town for a few weeks?” he asked. There was a look of puzzlement on his face and something else she couldn’t decipher.

She reached for her glass and took a gulp of water, then swallowed. “Yep.” Geez. She felt like he could see right through her.

“What about your job?”

“My job?” His piercing eyes probed hers, sending all thoughts fleeing from her head, rendering her mind blanker than a new sheet of paper.

A tiny smile tugged at his lips, like he was enjoying watching her squirm. “A month is a long time to take off.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered, reaching for her glass to get more water. She took a long drink, then set it back down with a plunk. Her job was none of Dalton’s business. “I’ve got it worked out,” she said tersely.

“What exactly do you do?” His tone was musing, irritating.

“I work at an advertising agency. I was a junior account executive, but was just promoted right before I came here.” She cringed. Why had she felt the need to tell him that?

Dalton offered a slight nod. “Congratulations.”

For a second, she thought he was making fun of her then realized he was sincere. Their eyes locked and she caught a trace of something in them—regret, sadness, genuine happiness for her? Maybe it was a combination of all three. She was surprised that he was wishing her well. “Thanks,” she uttered. An unexpected feeling of guilt splattered over her. Guilt that she’d left him without a word. Guilt that she’d not reached out to him in all these years. Guilt that she was giving him the cold shoulder now.

“Sierra has worked very hard to get where she is,” Bennie added. “I’m really proud of her.”

Sierra blinked a couple of times as she swallowed. Moisture collected in her eyes. It was rare that Bennie gave out genuine compliments, but Sierra could tell she meant every word.

Dalton cut off a section of steak and placed it in his mouth. He chewed a few rounds and swallowed. “Tell me exactly what it is that you do … in layman’s terms.”

“I manage a team of designers. We work with clients to develop advertising campaigns—media, print—it runs the gamut. I’m helping a national food chain now.”

He cocked his head. “Oh? Which one?”

Briefly, Sierra wondered if she should tell him. Then again, it wasn’t like it was confidential. “Pristine Pizza.”

Dalton’s eyes widened. “Really? The Pristine Pizza chain that’s all over the nation?”

“Yep,” she said, feeling a burst of pride. It felt good to be acknowledged for her work.

He broke into a smile that warmed her insides. “That’s fantastic.” His eyes held hers. “I’m proud of you, Sie.”

Emotion lodged in her throat. Quickly, she looked down at her plate to break the connection. Where had that come from? As unobtrusively as she could, she took in a breath, trying to compose herself. It was ridiculous how out-of-control her emotions were right now. She’d always tried to picture how it would be if she ever saw Dalton again. But she’d assumed that she and he would both be married to other people. Being here in this house, where they’d spent so much time together was hard. She didn’t know how to keep doing it. She moved to stand, but he placed a hand over hers.

Another zing went through her as she shot him a questioning look.

“I know this is hard,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. Dalton had always had the uncanny ability to know what she was thinking. He gave her a slight smile. “But we’ll get through it. Okay?” He motioned with his head. “Please, for Bennie’s sake.”

She nodded, removing her hand from underneath his. Somehow, she managed to pull herself together so her voice sounded somewhat normal. “Tell me about your business.”

He broke off a section of bread. “What do you want to know?”

“So, you build houses?” Duh, that came out sounding stupid. She might as well have asked … So, is the sky blue? And the trees are brown and green?

“Yes, I do mostly new construction and a few large-scale remodels.”

“Dalton’s a fabulous builder,” Bennie added, helping herself to another piece of bread.

Sierra pushed the salad around on her plate before taking another bite. Dalton had always liked building things. His dad was a carpenter by trade and was super talented. Sadly, he had a hard time holding down a job because of the alcohol. She wondered if Dalton’s dad was still around. She made a mental note to ask Bennie later.

“It seems like you’ve done well for yourself,” Sierra said.

Long pause and then, “Thanks.”

The word came out clipped and abrupt. Sheesh, this conversation was so stilted and awkward, like they were complete strangers. It turned her stomach. She was sure Dalton wanted to know why she’d left him without an explanation. Or maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he’d not loved her as much as she thought. Maybe he was relieved to get away from her. Sierra looked down at her plate, an awkward silence filling the space between them. She had a lot of work to do before tomorrow’s meeting with her team. Now would be a good time to excuse herself and go up to her room.

“Waffles,” Dalton blurted.

At first, Sierra couldn’t believe her ears. Then a laugh rumbled in her throat as she looked up, wide-eyed.

“I don’t understand,” Bennie said, shaking her head.

Sierra turned to Dalton. The corner of his lip was lifted in a crooked smile, amusement turning his eyes a dusty blue. A smile broke over her lips, dispelling the last of the tension. “Waffles, indeed.”

Bennie frowned. “Would someone please tell me what is going on? You’ve totally lost me.”

“Waffles is the code word Dalton and I used to say whenever we found ourselves in an awkward situation,” Sierra explained.

Dalton placed his napkin beside his plate. “Yes, and I can’t think of anything more painful than the two of us sitting here, awkwardly trying to make conversation, while pretending the past doesn’t exist.”

“Exactly,” Sierra exhaled, a measure of relief settling over her. At least they were getting it out in the open. She gave Dalton an appreciative smile, which he acknowledged with a slight nod. For an instant, the years peeled away and they were kids again. A connection, as strong and ageless as the venerable mansion in which they sat, twined around them striking darts into the center of Sierra’s heart. She got the feeling she’d fooled herself all these years. Perhaps she was as hopelessly in love with Dalton Chandler as she’d ever been. No, no, no! She had to fight against this. She had to remember what she’d worked so hard to build.

“Well, of course the past exists,” Bennie began. She put a finger to her chin, looking thoughtful. “I can’t remember which person said this, but our experiences shape who we are.”

Sierra laughed. “Oh, no. Now you’ve done it … got Bennie philosophizing. Thanks a lot. Now we’ll be here all night. Next, she’ll be quoting her favorite bit from Shakespeare about all the world being a stage.”

Bennie’s voice grew in volume as she began quoting, “‘All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts …’ From As You Like it,” she finished.

Dalton burst out laughing, then gave Bennie a sheepish grin when she cut her eyes at him. “Sorry,” he murmured. A look passed between him and Sierra as her insides warmed.

Bennie clucked her tongue. “Well, this takes me back—the two of you ganging up on me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sierra said contritely. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Suddenly, she was curious about his experiences over the past seven years—wanted to know more about the man he’d become. “Do you still play guitar and sing?”

Before he could answer, Bennie piped in. “Oh, yes. Dalton’s a local celebrity. People always ask him to perform at events.”

“Really?” Sierra cocked her head as she turned to him, relishing the color that crept into his cheeks. It made him look boyishly adorable. Dalton had an amazing voice and taught himself to play the guitar. “You overcame your stage fright?” She shook her head. “I never thought I’d see the day,” she mused.

He shrugged. “I’m sure there are lots of things about me that you don’t know.”

“Such as?” She shouldn’t have asked that, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Rather than answering, he just looked at her with penetrating eyes that seemed to see into her soul. Tell me about the drinking, she wanted to scream. The Dalton sitting before her was nothing like the man she assumed he’d become. Tell me that leaving you wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life. The space between them got inestimably small as they sat staring at each other.

Finally, Bennie cleared her throat. “I’m glad the two of you are getting along so well because it’ll take a lot of collaboration to get the set done on time.”

Panic trickled over Sierra and it must’ve shown on her face because Dalton waved a hand and said casually, “Don’t worry, I can take care of the bulk of it by myself.” He cocked an eyebrow, giving Sierra a challenging look. “I wouldn’t wanna put you out or cause your boyfriend undue concern about us spending time together.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, the comment made the hair on her neck rise as she straightened in her seat. “Parker”—she made a point of enunciating his name—“trusts me implicitly, as I do him. He has zero cause to be concerned about me and you working together.”

Dalton smiled, a mocking laughter in his eyes. “If you say so.”

So much for easing the tension. It was thick enough to cut.

Bennie smiled through the coldness. “Sierra, hon, would you get the pecan pie out of the icebox? I thought we’d have that with some ice cream.”

“In a minute,” she grumbled, turning back to Dalton. “I’ll work with you any day or any time, and it doesn’t cause me one iota’s worth of stress. Whatever happened between us is ancient history. You got that?”

A hard smile slid over his lips, turning his eyes to balls of ice. “Yep, loud and clear.”