She pushed her shoes off at the door, peeled off clothes as she walked, and then simply threw herself into bed. There was no doubt in her mind shed sleep like the dead.
She pushed her shoes off at the door, peeled off clothes as she walked, and then simply threw herself into bed. There was no doubt in her mind shed sleep like the dead.
Or that was the plan.
It didnt seem to quite work out that way.
The dream started with memory flashes from her wedding. Her mom, Margaux, was fluffing her hair, fixing her dress, looking at her with serious-mom eyes. It was her mom whod waited until they were alone to give her a private present of some lethally sexy French satin lingerie. And her mom whod said, Youre the most beautiful bride Ive ever seen. But if youre not sure, well stop this right now, darling.
And then her dad was suddenly in the dream, Colin with his far-seeing blue eyes and the pipe he sneaked away from his wife. To her dad, shed never been able to do wrong, yet it was her dad who wrapped her in a burly hug and said gruffly, I never thought a city boyd make you happy, Cam, not you, but if hes what you want, Ill love him. Just so you know that Ill shoot him if he isnt good to you.
She kept tossing and turning in the dream, because she wanted her dad so badly. She wanted her mom. Just once she wanted to be young again, a girl, safe in her parents secure arms, Margaux with her wildly emotional nature, and her dad whod tromp the woods with her, rain or shine. Daisy was suddenly there- Daisy, who was always so exotic and sexy and striking compared to her and Vi. Dont go to Boston, Daisy said. Hes nice, sweets, but theres just no way hell hold you for long. Pick a man who opens your world. Dont go to Boston, dont go to Boston.
The dream turned dark so fast. The wedding suddenly became a wild thunderstorm, and the beautiful white dress somehow turned into a devil-black cloud that choked her, pressing tight, smothering he. Suddenly there was an explosion of pain, when a fist slammed into her face. She heard Roberts helpless cry of pain, heard the judges voice say, First offense, first offense. Lets not compound this by making more of a tragedy than it already is. She woke up in the hospital, knowing he was dead, knowing her life was over. She heard the scrape of her broken ribs when she tried to move, the fear, the sickening fear of those men in the dark; she could still hear their drug-crazed laughter
No, no, no. Cut that out. Youre not alone.
Even though it was a dream, she recognized Pete faster than a snap and thought thank God, thank God. Like a miracle, he was just suddenly there right when she needed him. Like magic, she could rope her arms around him and be held, as fiercely as she wanted, as strongly as she needed. Im so tired of having this stupid damned nightmare, she said.
Well, youre not going to have it anymore. Im right here. Were going to chase it away.
A swoosh of a kiss made her head fall back into the pillows. That kissit seemed so real. She could taste Pete, smell his night-cool skin, feel the flannel of his shirt, the weight of him in the bed next to her. Somewhere, a window seemed to let in the drift of cool air-real air. Somewhere, Killer grumbled at the intrusion and jumped off the bed-as if the dog had really been snoozing at her feet.
It was amazing, how real some dreams were. Even better, though, was knowing that she could do things, say things, in a dream that she obviously could never do in real life.
Im afraid, Pete, she whispered.
Of course youve been afraid.
And I just cant seem to stop feelingguilty. That he died and I didnt. That he tried to fight them off for me, and I couldnt fight them off for him.
Were not going to talk about him, Pete said, and kissed her again.
Naturally shed had erotic dreams before-who hadnt? But nothing like this. There was another mysterious dream kiss, than another-each hotter than passion, wetter than a river, kisses that flowed and waved and ebbed all around her. His flannel shirt disappeared faster than a poof, just like magic. She heard some vague shuffling sounds-like his boots dropping-then felt the whoosh of cold night air when the sheets were skimmed off her bare body.
For an instant, she was disorientingly aware that maybe this wasnt a dream, because she really was cold. But then, so swiftly, so easily, she wasnt. Petes long, strong body covered hers, wrapped her up in his long limbs and warm torso. He showered her with more kisses-kisses like presents, each wrapped differently, each packaged like a surprise. Some were pretty and tender, some soft and bright, some so erotic and exotic they took her breath away.
Some skimmed down her body with his tongue, taking in everything, breast, tummy, navel, thigh, one lick at a time. A night beard teased her tender skin, inflamed her senses. He kept whispering, whispering, Forget everything, Cam. Just think about this. Just be. Just let me love you.
Something was suspicious.
Mighty suspicious.
Still, she was almost positive the only thing intruding on this extraordinary dream was her conscience. It was terribly disturbing to realize that shed never felt this way with Robert. This wicked. This thrilled. As if she could soar, just from the lush sensations of wanting and being wanted, loving and being loved.
Damn it, shed loved Robert, with everything she had, with everything she was. And she was tired to bits of living with that conscience hounding, hounding, hounding her all the timeand tonight, she didnt care what was suspicious or not. Tomorrow shed try harder to be mean and ornery again, to push people away, to protect herself. But tonight
Tonight she desperately wanted this dream. She wanted
Pete.
No one and nothing but him. The lush, wicked sensations of being taken over, taken under. His mouth, teasing hers, taking hers. His hands, moving her to madness, coaxing her to want, to need, to hunger, to feel, to sense, to touch back. To feel alive.
In the velvet shadows, he climbed over her. She felt his thighs, tight, hard, when he coaxed her legs around his waist. He tested her for readiness, found her hot, wet, impatiently more than ready for him, before he plunged in, taking her or maybe her taking him by then-who could possibly tell the difference? They were part of each other, inseparable. Each strained for the next height, climbing together, both furiously wanting by then, not having fun, not anymore. Ecstasy was a serious business. Joy took intense concentration, intense giving.
Pete, Pete She wasnt sure if she said his name aloud. It seemed as if her heart called him, wooing him, wanting him.
And then they both tipped off the sky, spilled into the universe of each other. One sweet, fierce release followed the next, until she sank into the pillows, into his arms, still panting hard, too spent to talkbut not so tired that she lost the energy to hold and be held. She smiled at him in the darkness, tenderly touched his lips with her finger.
I didnt know, she whispered. She didnt finish the thought. She wasnt sure there was a finish. It seemed as if everything inside her was a tender beginning, created by Pete, possible because of Pete. She smiled again, nuzzling her lips into his neck, and fell asleep heavier than a brick.
The next thing she knew, sunlight was streaming through the bedroom blinds in ribbons. She felt the warmth on her skin, the sensation of well-being and sleepy security, and lazily opened her eyes. There was Killer, his snout on her sheet, eyes staring hopefully at hers from mere inches away.
I take it you want to go outside, she murmured.
The next thing she knew, sunlight was streaming through the bedroom blinds in ribbons. She felt the warmth on her skin, the sensation of well-being and sleepy security, and lazily opened her eyes. There was Killer, his snout on her sheet, eyes staring hopefully at hers from mere inches away.
I take it you want to go outside, she murmured.
The dog woofed.
Exactly when did you start sleeping in my bedroom? The last thing I knew, you worthless mutt, you were sleeping outside.
The dog laved her hand lovingly.
Im not keeping you, remember? You dont belong to me. Nothing belongs to me, Killer. So dont get attached.
The dog woofed again, and then reached over to lovingly wash her face. The feel of that long, wet tongue got her out of bed bouncing-fast.
She let the dog outside, then stumbled back into the bedroom and sank on the beds edge, just for a few moments, struggling to get her emotional bearings. Last night simply had to have been a dream. Really, there wasnt even a question in her mind about that. In real life, shed never have done those things, felt those things. It was unfair to make herself feel guilty for a dream. It was just disconcerting because everything about their lovemaking had seemed so exquisitely real. The sex was part of that, but the invasive memories that shook her far more were her feelings for Pete, the feelings hed shown her, how they were together, all the love and tenderness and sensitive caring hed given her so freely. Obviously, it had been fantasy. A superb fantasy, but nothing she had to worry was conceivably true
From the corner of her eye, she spotted the sock on the floor. It wasnt remotely unusual to see socks on the floor, of course, and the cottage was an extra disaster this morning because of all her unpacking and box-hauling the night before.
But this particular sock wasnt hers.
This particular sock was as big as a football.
Practically as big as a boat.
Only one person she knew had feet that big-and he was no fantasy.
Suddenly there was no more pretending-especially to herself. Her breath caught, and suddenly Camille couldnt swallow.
She finished an entire row of lavender in record time-and had record blisters to prove it. When she stopped to yank off her gloves, two of the darn blisters broke, and stung like fire.
She hung a swearword on the wind, and then took a long, slow look at the field.
The lavender was barely recognizable from the knobby, weed patch itd been weeks ago. It wasnt perfect. There was no way to make it perfect in a single year. But the mulch had prettied up the rows, cuddled under the plants, and each trimmed lavender plant now looked evenly rounded, its fronds green and soft. There was no sign of purple yet, but there was a promise of that color, and a hint of the scent in the new growth.