Pretty Little Dreams (21 page)

“No, it’s my fault, I can do it.”

“Please angel, let me. I don’t want you to slip and fall and break more bones, okay?”

She pushes the hair out of her face and smiles, “Okay.
Thank you.”

I clean up the water off the floor and when I’m finished, we finally sit down to enjoy our soup and salad.
It’s pretty good. Not that you can really mess up salad, but the soup is good too.

“How are things at the club?”

“Good. Nothing to report really. We are thinking about opening a new club in California, I tasted a new drink one of the bartenders made up, oh, and one of my old buddies from college is probably going to come and work for me.”

“Oh really?
That’s cool! How did that happen?” She takes a sip of her soup and I can tell she’s impressed with her own cooking, liking the taste.

“He had asked me a while back to let him know if something comes up.
I need a new manager and bartender and he’d be good for the position.”

“I’d really like to meet him.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask her absently while taking a bite of salad.

“Of course.
I bet he would have some great stories to tell me about your college days. I look up at her to smile and she winks at me. And then she winks again. And again. Oh, I think she’s got something in her eye. “You okay?”

“Yeah, great.
How’s your salad?” She tries to act like nothing is happening, but her eye looks like it won’t stop twitching. She’s just ignoring it and takes another spoonful of her soup. She closes her eyes and one of her eyelashes falls off her face.

“Umm, Olivia?”

She opens her eyes and looks at me wide eyed, completely oblivious to the fact that her eyelash is now floating in her soup. “Yes, baby?”

She’s looking at me so expectantly, with a smile on her lips and I can’t tell her.
I mean shit – how do I tell her? Oh, I know, “Um, I think I’m done with the salad and soup, can we have some meatloaf now?”

Just as I hoped, she gets up from her seat and takes her salad and soup plates with her into the kitchen while she grabs the meatloaf.
Phew, crisis averted. I know it would have embarrassed her so much to know what happened. She doesn’t need to do herself up like that anyway, not for me. But I know it’s just part of her look for our romantic evening.

She returns with the meatloaf in her potholder-covered hands and sets it on the table to grab my salad and soup plates, taking them into the kitchen too.
When she returns, she looks at me and I notice how her eyes look different now, one with longer lashes than the other. Damn, she’s so cute.

She reaches for the meatloaf and cuts a piece, though some slips back in the baking pan, and places the remainder on my plate.
“Oh, sorry it fell apart a little. That’s likely a good sign, huh? I hope you like it. I’ve never made meatloaf before, but it was surprisingly easy.”

“I’m sure it will be great.”

She watches me as I grab a large forkful and put it into my mouth. I notice almost instantly that something tastes off. While the top has a nice brown, seared crust, the inside is noticeably chewy and mushy. I force a smile to my face and give her an, “Mmm,” then look down at my plate. It looks cooked through just fine, but something is not right. Oh my god, suck it up Easton, you are NOT going to gag in front of your girl at this meal she prepared for you. You are going to chew and love it. I force a swallow and barely keep the grimace hidden from my face.

“You like it?”

“Mmm, good.” I mumble and take another bite. Oh god it’s awful, it tastes like ass. It’s okay Easton. You will survive this. Besides, it’s a small piece. It will be over soon. You’ve endured worse things…certainly you have. You will not disappoint her. You will love this. Or at least act like you do. You are a warrior. You got this. Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow. Faster. Drink wine. Do not gulp.

I look up just as she’s taken a bite.
She chews for a moment and then spits the whole thing out on her plate. “OH MY GOD! That tastes awful! Luke!! That tastes awful! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Oh thank god, I don’t have to eat anymore.
I could cry with relief. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

She pushes her plate away from her, gets up, walks to me and gestures for me to back my chair up from the table.
When I do, she sits in my lap and throws her arms around me. “Luke Easton, I love you. I love you so much. I can’t believe you were willing to eat that just to spare my feelings.”

“You attempted to cook for me, angel.
I would do anything for you.”

“I know you would, I do.
But you can’t lie to me like that! That was awful. Next time, tell me the truth!”

“Okay.
So then tell me, are you going to tell me the truth about what happened today?”

Her whole body and face stills.
I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. “How about this… you forgive me for not telling you the meatloaf is awful, and I let you off the hook about telling me about your antics today.”

“Deal!” she hurriedly agrees, “Even though Pyper is a dead woman.”

I laugh and nuzzle her neck. “How about we order a pizza later?” I suggest.

“I will do it right now!” She makes an attempt to get out of my lap, but I don’t let her.
She looks at me questioningly.

“I’m hungry, angel, but not for food.”

She smiles and laughs as I grab my wine glass, down the entire glassful, then pick her up to carry her into the bedroom. I quickly take a glimpse out of the corner of my eye at the stove, ensuring a light or burner was not left on. After the dinner we had, I could just see the condo going up in flames.

Fortunately, the only fire will be between the two of us.

21.

SWEET CLARITY

Olivia

As Luke carries
me into the bedroom, all I can think about is how much I want his hands on me. All over me. I wonder if I will ever have enough of him. Of this. Of us. I hope not.

We reach my bedroom and he sets me down on my feet outside the closed door.
I look at him in question, “You okay?”

“I’m perfect.”
He turns me to face him, my back to the door, then he surprises me by lifting me up again, “Wrap your legs around my waist. I need to feel you, to taste you.”

I gesture towards my leg, “I’m not sure if I can.”

“Just try, if it’s uncomfortable, we will move.”

I do as he asks and groan when I feel his hardness against me.
I wrap my arms around his neck and lock my ankles the best I can around him given my stupid cast. I’m so over that thing – my leg doesn’t even hurt, it’s just a heavy hindrance. I want it off already. Pushing that thought aside, I concentrate on Luke and the fact he’s placed my back against the bedroom door and is pulling the pins out of my hair. He throws them on the floor, then shoves his hands into my hair. I look up at him and he meets my eyes for all of two seconds before his lips come crashing down on mine.

I pull him closer to me and kiss him with everything I have.
My lips move with his, our tongues twirling and stroking. I grip his hair at the base of his neck and grind my hips into his. I slowly pull away from him and bite his bottom lip, “I want you, Luke.”

I swear a sound that sounds like a growl vibrates through his chest, making me smile.
I need to feel him. Leaning back against the door, I start unbuttoning his shirt. He dressed up a bit for work today. Dress shirt and slacks. No tie, though. His shirt was open at his neck, hinting at his strong chest that I love so much. I begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, one down, two down, when I get to the third, a string from around the hole catches on the button, getting it stuck. I bite my lip and contemplate for all of a second if I should and then, with a smirk, I rip his shirt open with a sharp tug. The buttons go flying all over the place.

He laughs and winks at me, “In a hurry?”

I rake my nails down his chest and listen to his breath catch, “Yes. I want you now.”

He doesn’t waste
any more time and opens the door at my back. I’m slightly disappointed until he just brings us inside, closes it and then puts my back against the door on the other side. Hot. My mouth forms a naughty grin, “Door sex. I like it.”

He laughs and I reach for his belt buckle, hurrying to undo his pants.
His hands are caressing my ass and with a sharp tug he rips the thong from my hips. I look at him and he grins, “I’m in a hurry too.”

I laugh until I pull his erection from his pants with one hand.
I slowly stroke him up and down and rub my thumb over the tip. Moving my other hand into his hair, I press my lips against his for a quick kiss, then I lick and suck his bottom lip. I love him so much, I can’t wait another second to have him inside me. My legs have slid down, so he takes my casted leg behind the knee and places it over his hip, holding it there for me. I look at him as I place him at my opening. His eyes darken with passion and he pushes his hips towards me, entering me with just the tip of his cock.

I gasp at the sensation, craving more.
“Oh god yes, I need more.” I put my hands on his hips and dig my nails into his skin, trying to pull him closer. He pushes inside me more and I throw my head back against the door. He buries his face in my neck as he thrusts his hips forward and back.

Sweet sensations start building in my lower abdomen, and when he bites my nipples through my lace negligée, I swear I’m going to fall apart right then.
“Harder,” I instruct.

With a grunt, he heeds my demand and pounds his hips into me at the same time I put my fingers to my clit and start rubbing.
“Olivia,” he whispers. All I can think about is how much I don’t want him to stop.

With a yell, I feel myself climbing even more, then falling over the edge when my orgasm hits me with a blast.
At the same time, I’m aware of his thrusts increasing in speed. With a shout, Luke’s body stiffens and he lets himself go. He’s practically bent backwards with me just sitting astride his hips. His strength in that moment astounds me and I revel in the muscles moving in his chest. My man is sexy as hell.

He kisses my forehead and nuzzles my shoulder, then pulls away and looks at me with a sexy smirk, “Wow.”

I giggle, “Yes, wow.”

He turns around, me still in his arms, and places me on the bed.
He removes the rest of his clothes, helps me with mine, and then we lie down. I place my head on his chest and he begins to stroke my hair. My eyes drift closed and I feel more at peace with him in this moment, than I have in a long time. I kiss his chest, “I love you.”

His hand stills in my hair and I feel his fingers under my chin, nudging me to look up at him.
When our eyes meet, he caresses my cheek with his thumb, “I love you too, Olivia. So much.”

“I’m so sorry dinner sucked.” I blurt.

His eyebrows furrow, “It didn’t su-”

“Luke, it’s okay.
I’m a lousy cook, and I know it. I just wanted to try, for you. Thanks for going along with it.”

He smiles, “Anything for you.”

“Wow. You really mean that.”

“Of course I do.”
I smile as he pushes some hair behind my ear, “Does this mean I have to try the dessert you made?”

I start to laugh because I can hear the desperate sound in his voice, hoping my answer is no.
I can’t stop giggling and eventually he joins in, his chest bouncing under my chin, “No, you don’t have to try it.”

“Thank God,” he says, dropping all pretenses that I’m a good cook.

“Hey! You could have pretended a little longer.” I push my bottom lip out into a pout, and he bends his neck down and bites it.

“You’re sexy when you pout.”

“Yeah well, lucky for you, I have ice cream in my freezer.”

“You do?”
He asks his eyes lighting up. “Is Pyper expected back any time soon?”

“No, she’s staying the night at her parents’ place.”

“Okay, perfect,” he jumps out of bed naked and makes a beeline for the kitchen. Returning a few moments later, he hops into the bed, showing me the ice cream and spoon he’s brought back with him.

I sit up, “Hey, you forgot a spoon for me!”

He grins, “No, I didn’t.”

We both sit up, his legs crossed and mine on either side of his, facing each other while completely naked.
I love it. He takes the top off the ice cream, scoops a spoonful and holds it out to me, waiting for me to open my lips. When I do, he pushes the spoon closer until I take the ice cream he offers. It’s delicious. The vanilla and chocolate make my taste buds stand up at attention and crave more. He scoops more out, but puts that scoop into his own mouth.

He takes turns feeding me a bite, and then himself one.
The fact we are sharing one spoon is very intimate and I’ve never felt closer to him. Something around my heart crumbles just a little and I feel compelled to tell him something.

He offers me another spoonful, which I accept.
When he digs into the pint again to scoop another, I blurt, “I dreamed of you.”

His eyes shoot to mine and his brow furrows, “What?”

I take a deep breath, “I dreamed of you,” I repeat, “when I was taken.” His eyes widen at my words and he doesn’t move. I’m not even sure if he breathes. “When things were hard…” I look away and at my lap. My eyes well up and I sniff, trying to keep my tears from falling.

I jump a little when I feel his fingers at my chin, pushing it up until I move my eyes to meet his again.
His hold mine steady and as one tear escapes down my cheek, he leans in and catches it with his lips. I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of his lips on my cheek. He pulls away and I open my eyes slowly to connect with his once again. He steadies me. He centers me. He makes me feel whole, even when I don’t know if I’ve ever been more broken. In his eyes, I know I’m anything but, and that gives me the strength to continue.

“When things were hard and I was afraid I would never get out of there, I used to dream of you.
I think it varied between day dreams and dreaming while sleeping, but they were always the same.”

He swallows audibly and I watch his
Adam’s apple bob. “What did you dream?”

I smile then, because even in the middle of darkness and Deacon’s madness, dreams of Luke brought peace, light, and hope.
“I dreamed that you and I had a home.”

“A home?”

“Yes. A big one, with a wraparound porch, and even a picket fence.”

“What would we be doing?” he asks softly - like he’s afraid I will stop talking if he talks too much, or too loud.

I look off to the side as if it will help me envision it once again, “We would always be sitting on the porch rocking in chairs.”

“Rocking in chairs?
Were we old and decrepit?”

I smile again and laugh softly, looking at the way his lips turn up at the corners, “No, we were just as we are now.
It was always fall, and the leaves were amazing shades of orange and red. The sunset made the sky look like it was on fire, and we had blankets covering us. My feet sat in your lap, and you would be rubbing them, of course…”

“Of course,” he agrees.

“And I would scratch our dog behind his ear.”

“We have a dog?”

I nod, “Yes, a golden retriever, named Dakota,” I state matter-of-factly, making him smile, “And sometimes…” I pause, uncertain of continuing.

“Sometimes?” he prompts.

“Sometimes,” I whisper, as if talking loud will make the memory disintegrate, “while we were sitting there, I would look out into the yard, and under a tree would be two dark-haired little children. They had their heads together and would be whispering thick as thieves as they sat in a pile of leaves telling secrets.”

“Children?
Our children?”

“Yes,” I whisper looking at him.
“You know, it was just a daydream.”

“You want children with me?
And a house? And a dog?”

I smile at him, reach out and touch his cheek.
“More than anything.”

He places the ice cream and spoon to the side and moves closer to me, capturing my lips with his.
When he opens his mouth and I respond, he sweeps his tongue inside and I taste the sweetness still lingering on his lips. When he pulls away, he looks at me, “I want that with you too, Livvie. So much sometimes it hurts.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” he states emphatically, without hesitation. “Sometimes it still feels like a dream. I thought I had lost you forever. This second chance with you is everything to me. You’re my everything. I don’t let a day go by that I don’t say a prayer in thanks that I get to hold you in my arms again.”

“I feel the same way.”
I place a small kiss on his lips.

He pushes me onto my back and lays on his side next to me, the ice cream forgotten.
“Thank you for telling me about your dream.”

My brow furrows at his words, “What?” he asks reading me well.

“I know I haven’t talked much about what happened…”

“Livvie - ”

“No, let me say this. It isn’t because I don’t want to tell you or I don’t trust you or anything like that. It’s just because it’s hard. Sometimes I feel like it is physically impossible to even get the words past my lips. My throat feels like it’s closing and my chest feels tight. It’s easier to push it away than to try and talk about it.”

“That sounds like a panic attack, love,” he states gently, as if afraid he will worry me.
“That isn’t something you should ignore.”

“I know.
You’re right. And I realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“The dream that I had about us? That’s my greatest wish, Luke. A life with you. If I can’t get past this and start healing, I’ll never truly be able to make my dream a reality. I will keep letting fear hold me back and it will come between us.”

“That won’t-“

“Yes, it will. I’m tired of having that man be a ghost in the room with us all the time. I know it is hard not knowing where he is and I do still think that the right thing has been to move forward and to continue on with our lives. But, I also think it might be a good idea to talk to a therapist about my kidnapping.”

“You would do that?”

“Yes, on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Will you come with me?”
I ask shyly.

“Yes, of course.
I will be happy to take you and wait outside the room for you - whatever you need – I’m here.”

“No, Luke.
Will you go to the therapy sessions
with
me? Inside. Like, let me lay my head in your lap on the therapists couch,” I smile at the image I created.