Dream of Me: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (3 page)

He wasn’t prepared for her sudden entry into his office just seconds later. Her steps came to an abrupt halt as did the song she’d been humming under her breath.

“I thought you were gone,” she admitted.

“Sorry to disappoint you. Don’t you usually take a walk at this time?”

The fact that he’d studied her movements amused her. She wasn’t the only one playing the ‘trying to avoid someone’ game. “I can come back later.”

“And interrupt me again? You’re already in the room; you might as well stay.”

Not liking the challenging look in his eyes, she shrugged and went to sit at her desk.
If he could put up with her, she could certainly put up with him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Corbin watched her flip through the contents of a thick binder. He knew it contained the details of a renovation he’d done last year.
Was she actually interested in what he did?
The thought gave him more satisfaction than it should have. Biting his lip, he returned his attention to the blueprints. He had a deadline to meet.

For a time, the only sound in the room was the rustle of paper and the occasional creak of a chair. Corbin should have been able to work in such quiet conditions. The fact that he couldn’t was exasperating.

Why did his glance keep wandering in Aubrey’s direction?
It was too often to be labeled coincidence, but he refused to call it anything else. He wasn’t ready to admit to something as obvious as interest. A more likely and much more acceptable explanation was the strangeness of having someone new with him. He was accustomed to Jason, who’d worked with him for years. It would take time to get used to Aubrey and the scent of strawberries that surrounded her like an invisible cloud.
Jason had never smelled like strawberries.

After a long interval during which he grew more and more frustrated, he heard the welcoming sounds of her departure. He acknowledged her parting words with an absent nod that belied the fact that he’d been aware of her every move.

Once he was alone again, Corbin leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. He’d been sitting there for over an hour and had nothing to show for it.
What was it about Aubrey that disturbed him?
She was pretty, but no more so than many other women he knew. She wasn’t overly talkative, and she hadn’t yet made the mistake of trying to flirt with him.
Why couldn’t he ignore her?
There had to be a reason she got under his skin and for his own peace of mind, he was going to find it.

* * * *

Aubrey’s faith in her ability to evade Corbin had led her into trouble tonight. He was gone so often in the evening that she hadn’t bothered to make sure his SUV was in the garage. She walked blindly into the office and had to make the best of it. She forced herself to stay because she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she didn’t like being around him.

This meant she couldn’t do any ‘real’ work.
She’d learned the hard way that things went terribly wrong when he was there to see it.
And as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t lay all the blame for this irrational attitude on Corbin. He wasn’t nearly as distant as he’d been at first. So why did she still feel so uneasy in his presence?

In the safety of her room, away from his aura of cool indifference, she took a deep breath
. It was over now – she could finally unwind.
A long bath would complete the cure. Then she could lose herself in a book, and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep.

Hours later, she fought her way to consciousness, the terror of yet another nightmare bathing her in a layer of perspiration. Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness of the room, finally settling on the mellow light of the nightstand clock.

Feeling uncomfortably warm, she freed her legs from the tangled duvet and disappeared into the bathroom to bathe her face. The cool water worked wonders, but the idea of returning to bed had never felt so unwelcome. With the comforting thought that her two housemates were safely in their rooms, she made her way to the kitchen and began fixing a cup of hot tea.

“Do you make a habit of this?”

Aubrey jumped at the sound of the quiet words, just managing to hold on to the cup in her hand. The furious glare she gave Corbin brought a faint smile to his face. “You scared the life out of me.”

He leaned negligently against the doorframe. “I did mention that I work at night.”

“I know that, but I didn’t hear anything. You don’t make much noise for so large a person.”

“The same can’t be said for you. You were making enough noise to wake the dead. I got the impression you wanted company.”

“Whose company? Yours?” she asked with a regrettable lack of tact.

“Who else? Paul’s old enough to be your father.”

Aubrey gazed at him in amazement.
What was he saying? That she was attracted to him?
“You overrate your attractions and my interest. I wasn’t hoping for you or anyone else to keep me company. I was thirsty.” She swung around to leave, but his next words stopped her.

“Not so fast. How old are you anyway?”

“Didn’t you ask Phoebe anything about me?” she asked flippantly.

Corbin laughed softly. “Don’t get me started on that. Are you going to answer my question?”

“Sure, I’m twenty-one.”

“You look younger.”

“I know, but fortunately it doesn’t affect my ability to type.”

“I don’t think anything could make you slower at that,” he said dryly. When she would have spoken, he held up his hand. “Since we’ve established the fact that I do work at night, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your trips downstairs to a minimum.”

He had to be the most antisocial person she’d ever met.
“No problem. I’ll just take a bottle of water and keep it in my room.” This remark produced an appreciative grin.
Maybe he had a sense of humor after all.

“There’s no need for that. If you go past the turn at the end of the hallway upstairs, there’s a butler’s pantry that Paul keeps stocked with everything you can think of. Feel free to use it.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“Do you often have trouble sleeping?” he asked after a moment.

“Sometimes, but it’s getting better.”

He felt a stirring of sympathy. It couldn’t be easy to deal with losing both parents so tragically. “These things take time. Enjoy your tea; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Corbin didn’t immediately return to his desk; instead, he sauntered over to the window. As he looked out into the blackness of the night, he recalled Aubrey’s words about him having a high opinion of himself. Her attitude didn’t bother him at all. Her dislike was as effective as indifference and at this point, either one would ensure this situation didn’t get out of hand.

* * * *

Aubrey waited for Corbin’s appearance at breakfast, hoping their nocturnal meeting would be long forgotten. He came in wearing an old pair of jeans, t-shirt and work boots.

“I read through the three articles for
Renovation Style
last night; that’s what I was doing when I heard the racket in the kitchen.” He ignored her quick denial. “Anyway, I added material to all of them. I left the packet of changes on your desk. Don’t delete the original articles; I need them for something else. Also, I got two requests for proposals in the mail today. They’re similar to the ones I did on Sea Turtle Lane. You’ll find everything labeled in the filing cabinet behind my desk. See what you can put together. I know you won’t catch everything, but it will give you an idea of what goes into a proposal. If you have any questions, text me. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day. I’ve got a crew starting on a row of rental cottages.”

“Will I get to see them?” she asked hopefully.

“The crew or the cottages?” he asked with a laugh.

“The cottages, of course. I’d like to get a better idea of what you do.”

“I’ll give you the grand tour once things aren’t so messy.”

“That would be great.”

He looked amused by her enthusiasm, but didn’t say anything. Grabbing the newspaper by his plate, he ate with his usual speed and got up to leave. Just as he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry for scaring you last night.”

Was he actually apologizing?
“I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

Corbin smiled faintly. “It was one of the more memorable interruptions I’ve had.”

“What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’ve already said too much. See you later.”

Aubrey was finishing her toast when she heard the sound of an engine start outside. Paul came through the open doorway carrying the coffee pot.

“Need a refill?” he asked.

She held out her cup. “Yes, please.”

“Do you need anything from the store? I’m making a trip today.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like some yogurt and a bag of bagels.”

“No problem.”

“Paul, what does Corbin do when he’s at the work site?”

“He makes sure they don’t deviate from the blueprints.”

Aubrey poured cream into her coffee. “So he doesn’t do any of the actual work?”

“It depends on the project. There isn’t much Corbin doesn’t know about building a house. If you want to see his masterpiece, drive by 221 Cherry Lane. It’s a Victorian house he renovated last year.”

“I wonder if that’s the same house featured in one of the articles he gave me. I’d love to see it. Is it far from here?”

Paul picked up her empty plate. “Not far at all. Take a left out of our driveway, then take your first right. It’s the last house on the road before you reach the ocean. You can’t miss it.”

“I wonder why he agreed to write all these articles. It can’t be easy juggling two demanding jobs.”

“He likes to be busy. Don’t tell him I told you, but he plays the piano. He says it’s his therapy.”

“Therapy for what?” she asked with a grin.

A closed look came over his face. “That’s not my story to tell.”

“Or mine to hear. I don’t see Corbin telling me
anything
- he doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you, or you wouldn’t be here.” Paul glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. Don’t work too hard.”

Aubrey grabbed her coffee cup and stood up. “Corbin expects no less. Have a nice time at the store.”

A few hours later, she leaned back in her chair. All the changes for the articles were made, and she was ready for lunch. After eating a sandwich, she grabbed her keys and headed outside. For some reason, she wanted to see Corbin’s ‘masterpiece’.
Would a house tell her anything about her enigmatic boss?

Paul hadn’t steered her wrong; the house was easy to find. Aubrey pulled past the entrance to the winding driveway, shut off the engine and got out of the car to get a better look. The two-story white structure had numerous arched windows, turrets and an enticing second floor balcony. Every nook and eve was draped with elegantly scrolled gingerbread. The wrap-around porch was a canvas of white wicker furniture and large tubs of red geraniums. Climbing up one side of the porch was fuchsia bougainvillea.

Aubrey was so lost in admiration she didn’t hear the car pull into the driveway behind her. She did hear the click of a door shutting. Turning around, she saw a young woman walking in her direction.

“Are you lost?”

“No, I’ve fallen in love with your house.”

The woman laughed. “Would you like to see it up close?”

Aubrey grinned. “I’d love to, but I can’t impose on you. You don’t even know me.”

“There are no strangers on Tybee Island. I’m Kirsten and it’s no imposition. All I have waiting on me is a load of laundry.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kirsten. I’m Aubrey – newly arrived from Kentucky.”

“What do you think of our little island?”

“I’ll probably never want to leave.”

“I know how you feel. Let’s continue this conversation at the house. I’m not as tolerant of the heat as I used to be.”

Aubrey’s glance fell to the loose fitting shirt that did little to hide Kirsten’s condition. “When are you due?”

“September twenty-third; it also happens to be my husband’s birthday.”

Aubrey had to laugh as she got back into her car. Paul would be surprised when she told him of this little adventure.
The person she wasn’t going to tell was Corbin.

Kirsten waited for her on the short stairway leading to the porch. “What brought you all the way from Kentucky?”

A shadow crossed Aubrey’s face; no happy reason was responsible for her being here. Phoebe had been the one who prodded her into leaving. Only the future would reveal if that advice had been sound. “I got a job working for Corbin Reeves.”

A wide smile formed on Kirsten’s pretty face. “Did you really? You’ll be the envy of every available woman on the island.” With a wave, she led the way through the front door. “Let me tell my husband what’s going on.”

“He’ll think you’re crazy for letting some strange woman in your house.”

“He’s well aware of my impulsiveness. Anyway, he’s in his office – he won’t care what we’re doing. I’ll be back in few minutes. Make yourself at home.”

Kirsten slipped through one of the doors opening off a narrow hallway, closing it quietly behind her.

Aubrey occupied herself admiring what appeared to be an antique grandfather clock until Kirsten reappeared with her husband. He was as dark as she was fair, with friendly blue eyes and an attractive smile.

“This is my husband, Trey. Aubrey hasn’t been on the island very long.”

Trey took her outstretched hand and shook it gently. “Welcome to Tybee Island. I hope you enjoy your stay however long or short it may be.”

“I hope it’ll be long, but Corbin may have something to say about that.”

“Did Kirsten tell you he did this house?”

“No, but I did hear it from someone else. To be honest, that’s what brought me here. I wanted to see one of his finished products.”