Dalton leaned against the rungs of the ladder and used his body weight to press the nail gun against the wood as he pumped a line of nails along the bottom of the crown molding. The idea was to keep the set design as simple as possible and yet still be effective for the play. Also, the materials had to be able to withstand the elements.

After lunch at Clydedale’s, Dalton dropped Janie off at her restaurant, then went to a couple of sites to check on the progress of his jobs. Next, he came here to the outdoor theater to get started on the set. He’d hoped that Hank Trenton would’ve gotten more accomplished before he had to pull away from the project to look after his wife, Mandy.

Truthfully, it would’ve been easier to just start from scratch rather than trying to correct the sections Hank built. Everything was so out of whack and crooked that it was doubtful Hank had used a level. Had this been for anyone but Bennie, Dalton would’ve been tempted to bow out of the job. But there was no way he could leave Bennie in the lurch. He’d just have to do his best to piece the thing together and hope it would last through the performances.

He stepped down the ladder and put down the nail gun, wiping his hand across his brow. Thank goodness, the weather hadn’t been terribly hot the past few weeks, just upper eighties during the heat of the day. This evening, it was cooler than normal. A restless energy moved through the air signaling an approaching storm. He’d have to hurry and get as much done as he could before the rain set in.

Even though the rain would hinder his progress, he loved the powerful weather fronts that moved in and out of the low-country like stomping giants. He cast an appreciative glance around the perimeter of the outdoor theater, his eye moving up the height of the majestic live oaks that watched over the land like silent guardians. This really was a beautiful spot. He’d taken it for granted as a kid, but now he knew what a blessing it was that he was able to purchase the Drexel mansion.

He leaned over and picked up several of the sections of wood he’d cut earlier. They’d make up the treads on the two staircases leading to the raised section with the pillars and three-piece crown molding. Hank had cut the stringer or framework for the stairs. Dalton would have to place the treads over it, then check each one to make sure each was level before nailing it into place. It would be a tedious process as he’d have to carve out sections of the stringer to level the treads. But with any luck, he’d have at least one staircase done before the rain hit.

It was nice being out here working with his hands because it gave him time to think. His business had evolved to the point where Dalton mostly managed projects rather than doing any of the manual labor. And while he enjoyed interacting with clients, he sometimes missed the simplicity of a hard day of physical work.

His thoughts wandered over the events of the day. It was strange being with Janie at Clydedale’s with Sierra in the same room watching. Yeah, he’d noticed that Sierra’s eyes were glued to him and Janie, even though she tried hard to act disinterested. Dalton kept replaying the shocked look on Sierra’s face when she saw him with Janie. He’d assumed it would give him a sense of vindication to flaunt Janie in front of Sierra, but it just felt awkward. And wrong. He’d been so preoccupied with Sierra that he felt like he was in a dense fog.

Janie noticed that something was wrong and asked if he was okay. He blamed his aloofness on lack of sleep from the events of the night before. The excuse somewhat mollified Janie, but it wouldn’t for long. Janie was understandably nervous about Sierra coming back to Sugar Pines. And while it wasn’t Janie’s style to come right out and ask Dalton if he still had feelings for Sierra, he could tell she wondered.

Technically, Dalton and Janie weren’t exclusive, although neither of them had been dating other people. Dalton was relieved Janie hadn’t confronted him with the question because he didn’t want to tell her a lie, and he couldn’t admit the truth. He’d never stopped loving Sierra. He knew that now more than ever. And maybe it was wishful thinking, but he was starting to suspect that Sierra felt the same way.

He’d not planned to invite Sierra to Janie’s dad’s birthday party. The words had slipped out. But once he extended the invitation, he realized that he wanted Sierra there. If only just to be in the same area with her. He considered making up an excuse to visit Bennie this evening, just so he could see Sierra.

The wind picked up and roused the monstrous tree branches into action, swaying the Spanish Moss back and forth like synchronized pendulums. And with the wind came the faint scent of magnolia blooms. He loved being outside. He missed the beach. Even though it was only fifteen miles away, it was hard to break away from work to get there. He needed to go soon. Janie had been bugging him to take her, but he’d put it off. The beach had been his and Sierra’s playground, their haven. He wasn’t ready to share that with anyone else. Better to go alone. He probably wouldn’t go to the lighthouse because that would be too painful to do without Sierra at his side. But he could at least walk on the beach, take a swim in the ocean.

He was on his knees, bent over the staircase after placing the first board on the stringer, and was holding the level next to it when he heard a rustle. He turned, surprised to see the object of his thoughts standing before him.

“Sierra?”

It flashed through his mind that she’d changed clothes and fixed her hair and makeup. Man, she looked good. Her voluminous hair fell in soft rings over her slender shoulders. His gaze took in her silky skin, her heart-shaped lips painted cinnamon red to match her hair. For a second, all thoughts flew from his mind as he got lost in the mystery of her large blue eyes. Then he realized that he must look like a goober gawking at her. He rose to his feet, his blood pumping faster. “Hey,” he drawled, his trademark grin slipping over his lips like an old friend to hide his jitters. He felt like he was sixteen again, reliving his first crush. He chuckled inwardly at the bad analogy. Sierra had been his first crush … his only crush.

“Hey.” Her eyes swept over the set. “It looks great.”

“So do you,” he murmured. It was fun to watch color creep into her cheeks. He probably shouldn’t have said that, but he couldn’t seem to resist. At least he had the power to illicit some sort of reaction from her.

She lowered her eyes, her lashes brushing against her cheekbones. It was amazing how seductive that simple action was. The thin fabric of her white blouse traced the outline of her slim figure. The collar was open, revealing her delicate neck and collarbone. Her jeans were faded and ripped in the knees. The bottoms were rolled up, showing her ankles and denim wedge sandals dotted with rhinestones.

This morning, she’d been cute in a granola way with her hair in a ponytail. But tonight, she was a walking felony. Was she going out? Her boyfriend was still in New York, wasn’t he? A surge of jealousy spiked through him sending a poisonous anger coursing through his veins. No other man had the right to claim Sierra as his own. She’d belonged with him since they were kids. Or at least he thought that was the case until she left. It takes two to tango, his mind yelled. No matter how much he loved or wanted Sierra, if she didn’t feel the same way, it was a dead-end street.

“I thought I’d better come out and get an idea of what we’re dealing with.” She spoke fast, like she needed to explain why she was here. He watched as she picked at her fingernails. In the old days, she chewed on her nails when she was nervous.

He chuckled. “You can come out here anytime you want. And you certainly don’t have to give me an explanation.” The words came out casually, like he couldn’t care less what she did.

She jutted out her chin, her eyes sparking. “I wasn’t. I was just making conversation.”

“Okay,” he said nonchalantly. He strode over and picked up his nail gun, then shot the nails into the wood. It sounded like bullets whizzing by. He could feel her eyes, watching him. He placed another section of wood on the stringer and checked it with the level. This one was off by a half inch. He sighed. He’d have to chisel away a section of wood on the right side. It was hard to concentrate with her so close.

“Do you need any help?”

He couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping his throat. “I beg your pardon.”

She motioned. “With the steps.” Her eyes met his, and he caught the hint of defiance in them that seemed to be saying, You won’t dismiss me with that good ol’ boy indifference.

He looked her up and down, allowing himself a quick pause on the curve of her hips and long legs before flickering back to her face. An amused grin tugged at his lips. “Dressed like that?”

She put a hand on her hip, challenge simmering in her eyes. “Do you want my help or not?”

His blood zinged excitement through his veins. What was it about this woman that made him feel so totally and completely alive? He cocked an eyebrow. “All right, Sie,” he murmured. “Let’s see what ya got.” He pointed to his toolbox. “There’s a chisel in the top tray. Would you get it for me?”

“Sure.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her walk. Her movements were fluid, graceful, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she went. A couple of seconds later, she returned, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he said offhandedly.

“What’re you using it for?”

She seemed genuinely interested in what he was doing. “For this.” He began chipping away the wood. “The stringer’s off. I’m trying to make it level so the stairs won’t be crooked.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be good. I can see the actors now.” She stretched her neck, her voice going lofty as she straightened to her full height and held out her arms in a grand motion as she began quoting, “‘Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.’” She giggled, placing her hand over her mouth. “Because he fell and busted his head during the first scene of the second act.”

He couldn’t help but snigger. “Impressive,” he grunted. “Which play was that from?”

“Macbeth, of course. Bennie’s favorite. Well, second to The Merchant of Venice, that is. But audiences usually prefer Macbeth’s paranoia to Shylock’s demand for a pound of Antonio’s flesh.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Since when did you become an expert on Shakespeare? The girl I knew hated Bennie’s plays.”

“Still do,” she muttered. “But you can’t live with Bennie and not soak a little of it in.” She sighed like she was having some inner dialogue with herself. Then she motioned. “Don’t let me keep you from working.” She looked up at the darkening clouds. “You don’t have much time before the bottom falls out.”

He pursed his lips. “About forty-five minutes, I’m guessing.”

Her eyes widened, then a playful smile tugged at her lips. “Nah, thirty minutes. Tops.”

He felt himself grin, a genuine one this time. “What’s the wager?” When they were kids, they used to lie on the grass and watch the thunderclouds roll in, taking bets on when the first drops of rain would fall. “A kiss?” he said softly, searching her face. That had most often been the prize Dalton wanted. Her jaw dropped as she clenched her hands, making him think he’d pushed too far. But then she laughed.

“I guess I set myself up for that one, huh?”

He nodded. “Pretty much.”

She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “How about a walk instead?”

“A walk?” he asked dubiously.

“If I win, we take a walk together. Down by old man Shutter’s place. I’ve been wanting to go back there, but I’m afraid to go by myself … with the snakes.” She made a face. “And who knows what other creatures rustling around in the grass.”

“To the swimming hole?” He broke into a large smile. “You up for a little skinny dipping, Sie?”

Her face turned beet red as she held up a finger. “No, just a walk. My skinny-dipping days are definitely over.” She straightened her shoulders, a prim look molding over her features. “I’m a changed woman now.”

“Too bad,” he murmured. “Okay, a walk it is, if you win. Which I highly doubt.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure and carry a big stick to ward off the snakes.” He gave her a meaningful look. “And any boogey men we might encounter.”

She grunted, but he caught the smile in her eyes. He didn’t know what had changed in the past few hours, but it was like the old Sierra was returning … his Sierra. He tipped his head, his tone going musing. “Let’s see …” He put a finger to his lips. “What do I want? Other than a kiss, of course?” Her eyes connected with his sending a jolt of adrenaline through him. “If I win, we go into Charleston for a nice dinner.” And maybe a walk on the beach afterwards, he added to himself.

She rocked back. “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He shrugged. “A kiss or dinner. Your choice.”

She laughed, giving him an admiring look. “All right, wise guy. You’re on. For dinner … that is.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket. “Time starts now.”

“I see how you are.”

“What?”

“We’ve spent a good three to five minutes talking about it. You have to deduct that from the time.”

“Fine,” she sniffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re so picky.”

“Just keeping you honest.” How easy it was for them to fall back into their old banter.

She made a flourish with her hand. “Chop, chop. Slow poke.” She looked at the clouds, her eyes dancing wickedly. “I feel the rain coming on,” she drawled. “You’re sooo gonna lose this one.”

He returned to his task, even though his mind was no longer on it, but on the captivating redhead standing beside him. Sierra had always been a beautiful woman, but she’d really come into her own. Regardless of how their little wager turned out, Dalton would get to spend time with her. He almost hoped Sierra won because he’d love to have her all to himself at the swimming hole. Memories came rushing back. Her skin glistening like ivory in the pale moonlight, her red hair spilling down her back. The feel of her in his arms as the cool water lapped around them. The fire that raged through him when their lips connected. Rein it in, boy, he told himself. It was a simple walk. And while Sierra seemed different right this moment that didn’t mean things would stay this way. There was still her life in New York and her hotshot boyfriend to consider.

She looked around, frowning. “I think I need to hire a landscaper to spruce this place up before the play. What do you think?”

He glanced around. “Yeah, it couldn’t hurt. I could put you in touch with one of my guys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise before an appreciative smile curved her lips. “Thanks.”

The moment got slow as their eyes locked. Dalton was almost to his feet, about to pull her into her arms when she broke the connection. “Oh, I almost forgot. I need to snap a few pictures.” Her words rushed out.

“Pictures?” He scratched his head. Sierra was squirrel jumping from topic to topic so fast it was hard to keep up.

She held up her phone. “Say cheese.” She snapped the picture before he had a chance to smile. Then she turned and began taking pictures of the area.

“What’s that for?”

“There. That should do it,” she said to herself, then turned back to him as she shoved her phone in her back pocket. “I’m meeting with a few tourist companies tomorrow. Hopefully, they’ll be able to sell some tickets.” She paused. “We really need it.”

The catch in her voice jumped out at him. “Need it for what?”

She blinked. “Huh?” She chuckled looking embarrassed. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

But he noticed the slight crease in her forehead, could tell by the way she held her mouth that something was wrong. He frowned. “What’re you not telling me?”

“Nothing,” she said with a half laugh. “Geez. You always take one little thing I say and blow it out of proportion.”

Did he? Sierra had certainly accused him of that enough when they were together. He studied her. No, he wasn’t off track. Something was wrong.

He rose to his feet. “Sie? What is it?” For an instant, the years turned back and he felt the same intense connection that had always been between them—as strong as the tide pulling the waves into the shore.

She offered a strained smile. “I could never keep anything from you.” He was surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes. There was an expression on her face he couldn’t decipher—pain, regret?

His voice went soft as he touched her arm. “What is it?” For a second, he thought she might refuse to answer but then her shoulders sagged.

“Bennie took out a loan against the mansion to fund this stupid theater.” The vehemence in her voice cut like a blade through the moist air.

“What?” He’d always thought Bennie was smart with her money. This seemed out of character for her. Sure, she loved the theater and was a little eccentric, especially when she was getting into her roles. But putting herself in hock? Not something he would’ve expected.

“She’s behind on her payments … twenty-two thousand dollars to be exact. If she doesn’t get it caught up in the next few weeks, the bank will foreclose.” Her voice trembled. “And we’ll lose the mansion.”

He shook his head. “Which bank is it?”

“The bank where Nadine works.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Anyway, that’s why I came back.” She motioned at the stage. “Why I’m getting involved in all this. And why I’m staying for the next four weeks.”

Hope percolated in his chest. He loved hearing Sierra say out loud that she was staying four weeks. He stopped short when he saw tears brimming in her eyes. “Hey.” He touched her arm. “It’ll be all right.”

She nodded, biting her lower lip.

It took everything in him to keep from pulling her into his arms. His heart was both broken and whole. She was here, right in front of him. And yet, she was no longer his. But still he craved her like a drowning man did air. If he pushed too hard, she’d run the other direction.

A slight smile touched her lips, then she let out an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry to burden you with my problems.”

He shrugged. “No problem. That’s what friends are for.”

She cocked her head. “Is that what we are?”

“We were friends first, weren’t we?” The friendship thing would work. Put her at ease.

Her eyes softened. “Yes, we were.”

“’Friends at first, friends at last’ Isn’t that how the saying goes?” Okay, that was a little much. A beat stretched between them as he sought for the right words to fill the silence.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. Her eyes met his, and he saw a yearning that whispered to his soul. It gave him cause to hope that all wasn’t lost between them. Anticipation tingled over his skin. They were at a crossroads. He could only hope and pray that things would sway in his favor. Otherwise, he was headed for major heartbreak. And he didn’t know if his heart could handle it again. He motioned with his head. “Come on. Let’s sit down. I believe it’s time for the two of us to have a nice, long talk.” Talking was good. Talking implied friendship … understanding, the two of them connecting on an emotional level, rather than the physical.

She looked hesitant at first pursing her lips together. Time seemed to stand still as she reached a decision. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, it’s time.”