Reckless (Blue Collar Boyfriends Book 1) (7 page)

Someone was touching him intimately
. A warm body straddled his. A slender arm brushed his stomach as a determined hand worked its magic south of the equator. His whimpers of fear turned to moans of delight. Warm lips nipped along the side of his neck and jaw before seeking permission for more at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, fuck, yes. Now
this
was a dream.

He turned his head enough to capture those tentative lips. They instantly parted and he tasted his first kiss since his pathetic attempt to date a few months after the divorce. The one-night stand had left him feeling dirty. Responsible fathers didn’t have one-night stands. He hadn’t made a move on anyone since. And his poor dick hadn’t seen any action since, except occasionally by his own hand. Embarrassment warred with euphoria as climax zoomed up on him.

Fight it. Make it last. You don’t know when you’re going to feel this good again. Might be
never.

The woman broke the kiss. Her breath fanned over his cheek as her breathing sped. She dug
what she was doing to him. Damn, he’d imagined up the perfect woman, part innocent shy girl, part wildcat.

He ground his molars in an effort to prolong the fire of her touch, but when her tongue traced his ear, he was lost.
Lost to pleasure and comfort. Lost to a fantasy that felt so fucking real. The scent of melon hit him as her hair fell across his face, and he erupted in his dream girl’s hand.

His eyes squeezed shut and stars burst behind his lids. A groan ripped past his clenched teeth. It was a primal reaction he tried to temper, but his control was gone, zapped by the perfect dream, the perfect woman.

“You came back,” he panted as his body came down from the best climax he’d ever had from a hand job. He reached for the tissue box by his clock. He’d probably just soiled his briefs in real life, but here, his dream girl had taken most of his spent passion on her hand. He cleaned her by touch in the darkness, gently wiping her fingers one by one. He couldn’t believe his luck he hadn’t woken up yet. “I thought I scared you away.”

“I regretted running away.” Her voice was sweet and smoky, like honey barbeque. “I was a coward. I wanted to make it up to you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Again with the blend of innocence and seduction. The combination had his dick twitching again already.

He liked his new window coverings, but damn if he didn’t miss the streetlight. What he wouldn’t give to see those imaginary blue eyes and that gorgeous, thick auburn hair. Was his imagination good enough to create a face with the same mix of sex and innocence as her voice?

He wanted to turn on the lamp. Would she disappear in the light? Not willing to take that chance, he let his hands learn her, running them up her smooth thighs to the hem of her shorts, up her bare arms until he felt the edges of a sleeveless shirt. Her shoulders were slender but strong. Her neck was graceful. As he cupped one hand around the warm column, her pulse thundered under his thumb and her hair tickled his fingers.

“Hell no, sweetheart.
You can do that to me anytime. But you don’t have anything to make up for.” His thumb inched up to caress her jaw. When he touched her full lower lip, she sucked in a breath. Her tongue touched the pad of his thumb and she nipped his skin. He found his voice with difficulty. “I’m just glad I didn’t scare you away for good.”

“I don’t think I could stay away from you if I tried.”

She was just saying that because she was a figment of his imagination. He wanted someone who wanted him back, so that’s what his dream girl did. But damn if it didn’t feel amazing having a woman on his lap enjoying his touch, even if she wasn’t real.

“What’s your name?” she said.

He blinked. His dream girl didn’t know him? Strange. “Derek,” he told her as he let his hands wander down her arms again and linked his fingers with hers. He loved touch. Deidre had called him
grabby
, but his dream girl didn’t seem to mind. She let him touch all he wanted.

“Derek,” she repeated, and it sounded like she smiled. “Good name.”

“Glad you approve. What’s yours?”

A heavy sigh.
“You really don’t know, do you?”

Uh, oh.
Why did he suddenly feel like an asshole? Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but definitely disappointed. “Should I?”

“I guess not.”

His new erection flagged. He didn’t think she meant to, but his dream girl was making him feel guilty when he hadn’t done anything wrong. She expected him to know her, remember her from somewhere, but he couldn’t call up a memory that didn’t exist. He hadn’t dated a ton before Deidre. They’d married young. There had been a few girls in high school and college, but this woman left them in the dust.

Shouldn’t his dream girl just kind of be quiet and let him
—what?—use her? As soon as he thought it, he knew he wouldn’t have imagined up someone who would be no more than a source of sexual release. He’d had that once and hadn’t liked it. No, his perfect woman would be more than a pretty face and willing body. She’d be a whole person he could talk to and be friends with.

“Look,” he said, “maybe if you tell me your name, I
’ll remember something. I know you’re not based on anyone I’ve ever dated. But maybe I knew someone like you at one point.”

She
huffed a humorless laugh. “You still think I’m a dream.”

Why wouldn’t she just tell him her name? Wait, maybe
she didn’t have one because he hadn’t given her one. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but that’s all you are. Believe me, I wish you were more.”

“Me too.”
The longing in her tone ripped his heart. The urge to comfort her had him lifting their linked hands to his lips. He kissed her knuckles. Her skin smelled like his own musk and a fruit orchard on a warm summer day. He meant to soothe her with the kiss, but found his chest puffing up with contentedness.

He had to get rid of her. He didn’t deserve to feel this good after hurting Haley. “Damn, sweetheart, you have no idea how bad I wish you could stay, but you really shouldn’t be here. I should be having nightmares tonight, not sweet dreams.”

He tried thinking about the car accident. He pictured the view out the windshield of the little Honda. He could almost see the glare of sun off the other cars on the freeway, the feel of the steering wheel gripped in his too-small hands. He was almost there, stressing about merging, seconds away from disaster.

Soft lips brushed his ear. Full breasts squished against his chest, and he tried not to imagine how great they would feel naked and in his hands. “Why do you think you don’t deserve sweet dreams?”

“Because I was a jerk to my ex-wife and made my little girl cry.” No need to save face with her. She was an extension of himself, after all.

“So you think you need to be punished?” She nuzzle
d the hair behind his ear, and relaxing chills spread down his entire body. He was getting hard again, but he was more exhausted than horny.

“I guess.” He yawned loudly. Tiredness dragged at him, which made no sense since he’d been asleep for hours.

“And your dreams punish you?” She sounded appalled.

“Yeah.”

“What do you dream about every night? What makes you cry?”

“A car accident,”

“That sounds scary. Do you get hurt?”

“Yeah, but it’s not really me. It’s someone else. Someone I don’t know.” Some emotion he didn’t want to explore settled like a stone in his gut. For the first time since Friday afternoon, he wondered what had happened to the driver of the Honda. He hoped the guy was okay. “It should have been me,” he muttered, thinking of Haley’s tears. “I’m an asshole. I deserve to get hurt.”

Gentle fingers stroked his scalp. He hummed a contented sigh, feeling ridiculously cared for. He really should try harder to change the dream. It was selfish to take this comfort when he didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. And I don’t want to see you hurt. How about you go back to sleep and I’ll watch over you and keep the nightmares away.”

I think she was watching over you, Dad. I like her. She seems nice.

A chill snaked over his skin. “I’m asleep already,” he said, yawning again. “This is just a dream.” A spooky, wonderful dream.

“
Shhh. Go back to sleep. I’ll stay as long as I can.” She curled against his side, and he drew her close.

“Okay,” he said.

A second later, it seemed, his radio alarm woke him from a dead sleep. He tried to hit
snooze
, but something pinned his arm to the mattress. Why the hell was his room so dark? He couldn’t see shit. Oh yeah. Blinds.

“I got it.” A woman spoke by his ear. The weight lifted, and a second later the alarm shut off. The lamp clicked on, and he
squinted up into innocently beautiful blue eyes.

His dream girl.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m glad you got some peaceful sleep for a change.”

Derek groggy and with sleep-flattened hair was the be
st thing DG had ever seen, and since her memory encompassed only three nights, she could say that with absolute certainty. The moment he blinked up at her in adorable confusion, she lost her heart completely.

Who knew what supernatural force had thrown them together or for what purpose, but she was glad it had. She wouldn’t have picked out a serious, aggressive man with a temper for a lover, especially one prone to seeking refuge from his problems in a bottle, but she didn’t regret being here with him. Derek had a loving heart, and he wanted to do right even if he missed the mark sometimes. Staying up late last night to hang curtains for Haley proved it.

She wanted to bring laughter and fun to his serious eyes. She wanted to fill his temperamental heart with love. Giving him some pleasure last night had been just the start. For as long as she would be allowed to visit him, she vowed to offer him the comfort, love, and pleasure he seemed to crave so much, even if he didn’t know how to ask for it.

Her smile started deep inside and made its way out to greet the man who had called her his dream girl and held her through the night, the man who had given her purpose.

He scrambled away from her until he fell off the far edge of his bed, taking the new comforter with him. He bounced up like a jack-in-the box, saying “Shit!” over and over again, until his hands wrapped around a wooden baseball bat propped in the corner. Pulling the bat back, he tangled it in the blinds and cursed some more as he took his gaze off her to detangle it from the buckled aluminum.

Panting and wild-eyed, he looked back at her. A flush crept up his cheeks. He abandoned his defensive posture, letting the bat slide in his grip until he held it relaxed by his side. “Probably overkill with the bat?”

She held back her laughter. “I’m betting you could take me without it. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. I’m not interested in hurting you, only doing nice things to you.”

He gulped
and stared at her, a large, muscle-bound man looking like a horny teenager unable to believe his luck. “I’m still dreaming.”

“Nope.”

“Shit.” He wiped a hand down his face, shut his eyes for a beat and reopened them as though expecting her to be gone. Of course she didn’t go anywhere, and she wouldn’t, not for another few minutes if the pattern of the last two mornings held. The alarm had gone off at 4:50, and she’d been yanked away the last two mornings in the minute or two before 5:00. She’d never caught even the barest hint of dawn. Would this morning be the same?

Please let me stay to see sunrise this morning,
she pleaded to whatever power was responsible for this weirdness.

Derek wiped a hand down his face again. “Shit.”

She grimaced. “Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Sorry. It’s all I got.”
His face grew pale. Fear replaced the sleepiness in his eyes.

Okay, the guy was freaked. Not what she’d intended, but she could deal. She just needed to explain.

She folded her legs under her so she knelt in the middle of the bed, facing him. “Look, sorry if I scared you, but I’m no threat. Honest. I’ll even disappear if you want me to. All I have to do is get out of bed and
poof
, you won’t see me anymore. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to really talk to you in three days, and, I don’t have long, only a few more minutes, and, well, maybe I’m a little lonely. I was kind of hoping we could talk—I mean I know you probably have to get ready for work and all—I’m guessing it’s Monday. I don’t want to impose or anything. I just—”

Just what? Wanted to have breakfast with him?
It wasn’t like she could sit at the kitchen table and sip coffee. In fact, she had no right to expect anything of him. Derek had a life, and she was completely interrupting it.

Not to mention, she was a supernatural phenomenon he probably had one heck of a time trying to wrap his brain around.

When he continued staring at her, she forced a smile and tried not to let disappointment crush her. “Never mind. You’ve got to get to work.” Why else would he be getting up so early after less than four hours of sleep? “Look, I don’t know why, but I always show up here in your room after dark. And I always stay until five or so. And you can only see or hear me when I’m on the bed. I can’t even open doors or move things or pick up a stupid sock. Crazy, I know. But there it is. So, I’ll go now—” She couldn’t make an exit until the fog claimed her, but she could climb out of his bed and at least become invisible to him, give the guy a chance to reboot. “I’ll be back tonight, though. Probably.” She hoped. “Maybe we can talk then?”

Good grief, she sounded desperate. She was desperate
—for company, for Derek’s affection, to understand what was happening to them and why—but she didn’t want to come across as burdensome.

“Only if you want,” she added.

His expression never changed. His eyes were still wide, his eyebrows still drawn together. The firm lips she’d nibbled and kissed earlier made a stony line.

She’d messed up big time. She was supposed to be his comfort, and here she’d upset him.

Way to let your own agenda override good sense, DG.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.
Before she could make things any worse, she slipped off the opposite side of the bed.

With her heart shrinking into an
embarrassed prune, she watched his eyes search the rumpled covers. He wiped his hand down his face again. “Too much fucking bourbon.” He grabbed some clothes out of the dresser, left the room, and pulled the door closed behind him, barring her from following.

“That went well,” she said
to the empty room.

* * * *

The sun wasn’t up yet, but morning twilight lit the sky with a mellow blue. Humidity
rested heavy against Derek’s skin as he walked to Brick and Mortar to retrieve his truck. Today would be a scorcher.

He gripped his Thermos in one hand and the insulated lunch bag Haley had given him for Father’s Day in the other. Amazingly, his head was clear despite the glasses of bourbon he’d sipped one after another last night, and despite a
craptastic night of bad dreams and too little sleep.

Okay, the night hadn’t been all
craptastic. He’d gotten to see his dream girl again. He’d gotten to hold and kiss her and come in her hands like an overeager kid. None of it had been real, of course—except the coming; he’d noticed the tissues on the floor in the morning and marveled that he’d been able to clean himself up in his sleep. But even if his dream girl hadn’t been real, dreaming about her had saved the night for him.

I don’t think you’re a bad person,
she’d said. She believed in him. It was the only thing keeping him from beating himself up over upsetting Haley. And drinking too much.

Which was crazy.
Literally crazy.

She’s not even real.

His subconscious was obviously trying to deal with the car crash nightmares by overreacting with too much fantasy. Getting off in a dream about his dream woman was one thing, but imagining her in his bed even after his alarm had gone off, frigging talking with her—that was padded-room shit.

Unless she wasn’t imaginary.

Haley had seen something in his room.
No, not something. Someone.

Someone with red hair, darker than Rebecca’s.
Someone she thought had been watching over him.

A few years ago, he might have believed his little girl had made it up.
But now? She was eleven going on socially-responsible seventeen. When they got serious, they talked about things like recycling and overpopulation in India and baking muffins with Deidre to take to the nursing home. She was a caring girl with a big heart and an outlook on life a few years ahead of her age group. Haley had better things to talk about than imaginary stuff.

Maybe he had more to apologize to Haley for than yelling at Deidre.

Shit. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering this.

He rounded the corner of Graham.
Eight dark, quiet blocks to go before he reached the pub. Two sets of traffic lights glowed green in the distance. Apartment buildings and unlit signs for closed businesses crowded the sidewalk. Electricity hummed in the wires overhead. A lone car drove by, headlights on. It had to be near eighty degrees, but he had goose bumps.

I’m dreaming,
he’d said earlier.

Nope,
she’d said. She’d smiled, and that one expression had held so much emotion, he knew he couldn’t have invented it all. Joy, excitement, insecurity, passion.

She’d insisted he was awake one other time. His skin went from clammy to
overheated as he thought about it. His room had been utterly dark. He hadn’t been able to see a thing, but his other senses had snapped to attention to make up for the deficit. The scent of honeydew melon filled his nostrils and made him lightheaded. The sound of her palm rasping the hairs of his chest and the soft wind of her breath in his ear blended in a sensual symphony.

And the
fire of her touch… She’d handled him with an irresistible blend of tentativeness and confidence. She’d been asking permission and insisting on his pleasure all at once. No one had ever touched and kissed him like that before, like their entire purpose was to show him love. The tenderness of it had undone him.

Could it have all been real? The possibility thrilled him and terrified him.

He reached Brick and Mortar’s lot at 6:02. Closer to a main artery now, he saw more traffic. Early birds like him getting to work before the rest of Redding got out of bed. His truck hunkered all alone in the lot, white as a ghost in the darkness. His boots crunched on loose pebbles as he strode to it.

When
he climbed in, his stomach did an uncomfortable flop at the memory of the woman’s expression when he’d refused to believe she was real. She’d looked hurt, embarrassed. Disappointment had snuffed the joy in her eyes.

“Shit,” he muttered as he
turned the key in the ignition. Before reversing out of the lot, he wiggled his cell phone out of his pocket and texted Deidre.
Pls call me when u get this.

He needed to see Haley after work today, not to admit he might have a ghost
—he still wasn’t sure he believed it himself—but to apologize for last night. And the only way he’d be likely to get any face time with her would be to make nice with the ex. God give him strength.

* * * *

By the time Derek arrived at the job site, the crew was already in full swing. He slapped on his hard hat and made the rounds before heading for the trailer to slog through his inbox. Sometimes he missed being out there with the crew, getting his hands dirty and using his muscles. He
sure could have used a physical outlet for anger at himself today.

He was such a shithead.
Destined to disappoint every woman in his life, even his Haley-girl, whom he’d hoped to protect from his anger. Even the dream girl he may or may not have made up.

Thoughts of tears in Haley’s eyes and the
hurt on his dream girl’s face kept pulling his focus away from what he needed to get done. To top it all off, he felt bad about going off on Deidre last night when she’d only been trying to help.

His cell phone rang at 9:15. He glanced at the display.
Deidre.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said.

“I’m a dick.”

“Yup.” The
p
popped.

He sighed and leaned back in his squeaky chair. He stared at the acoustic ceiling tiles while he tried to figure out the magic combination of words that would get her to let him see Haley tonight. Thinking he’d come up with something pretty good, he said, “I should have kept my temper in check with Haley in the house.” He waited for her to say something.
“You still there?”

A bitter laugh.
“Would it kill you to say the words?”

He knew the words she meant. How many fights had gone on for days
when he could have ended them within minutes by simply saying those two little words? He hated when people said them and didn’t mean them, or said them so often they lost their meaning. He’d determined long ago to save those words for times he knew he’d done wrong and intended not to do it again.

This wasn’t one of those times.

He couldn’t promise never to lose his cool with Deidre again, and since Haley was their kid, she’d most likely see them clash from time to time even though he’d do his damnedest to spare her that. But he did owe Deidre an apology. So that’s what he gave her.

“I apologize, okay? I shouldn’t have yelled at you with Haley in the house.”

She sighed long and loud. “It would be nice if you didn’t yell at me at all. What’s with you, anyway? Ever since Friday, it’s like I can’t say two words to you without you taking offense.”

“Friday?”

“Yeah.
At Haley’s game. You were distracted the whole time. Then you practically bit my head off when I said hello. I hope you weren’t hard on Haley over the weekend. I tried to ask, but she’s being sullen.”